Yours, Mine, and Rumplestiltskin's
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: Two lonely single parents. 18 kids. Sparks will fly as Rumplestiltskin, sorcerer and father of 8, meets his match in healer Belle, who lives in a shoe with 10 children. Romance and hilarity ensue as they attempt to get together and find their happy ending, despite scheming evil queens and circumstances. Set in FTL. AU, Rumbelle, Snowing, Sleeping Cricket.
1. The Sorcerer's Children

**This is what happens when I watch an old movie over again, combine it with some of my fav Once Upon a Time characters, some little used fairy tale people, plus a familiar nursery rhyme—There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe (but she's not old in this story) . . . and here for your enjoyment is . . .**

**Yours, Mine, and Rumplestiltskin's**

**1**

**The Sorcerer's Children**

Once upon a time there was a castle on a hill, but the castle did not belong to a king or even a duke. Instead it belonged to a sorcerer, the sorcerer called Rumplestiltskin, once known far and wide as the Dark One. What people _didn't_ know was that the Dark One's curse had been broken years before by the pure love of a father for his children, first the two children of his blood and later by children he had rescued or been given in exchange by foolish parents wanting more than their lot in life. Before Rumplestiltskin had donned the mantle of the Dark One, the castle used to echo with the screams of the damned and dying, the wails of the hopeless and doomed. But now the castle rang with the sounds of many little feet, and some not so little anymore, running up and down the stairs, through the hall, and across the broad fields. It echoed with the sounds of childish laughter, quarrels, talks, and tears. Such things had become commonplace since Rumplestiltskin had moved in with his horde of children. Had anyone come riding by, they might have heard something like this of a Monday morning.

"Where's Papa, Bae?" asked Ivy of her seventeen-year-old brother, Baelfire, as she cut biscuits out of the dough she'd made that morning. Ivy was three years younger than her brother, though they both had similar looks, dark hair, deep brown eyes, and skin tanned by sun and wind.

"He had to go and deliver a potion to someone in the village," answered her brother, leaning on the end of the counter. "Some idiot went and turned his prize cow into a statue with a hedge charm and as usual they came up here yammering for someone to fix it. You'd think they'd find another sorcerer considering they only come to Papa for problems."

"Will he be back in time for breakfast?" Ivy asked, shoving a tendril of hair out of her face and wiping her floury hands on her apron. One of the things Ivy could do well was bake, and thank goodness for that, because she had nine mouths to feed, including herself. She transferred the baking soda biscuits to a cookie sheet and shoved it into the wall oven.

"Don't know," Bae shrugged. "Maybe. Look, I'm going to start doing the chores. The animals need to be fed and Flicker needs to be turned out to pasture. Papa rode Rogue, so he should be back on time unless he's delayed. Tell Jack and Finn to come gather the eggs and milk Bluebird, okay?"

"All right. Where's Elaina and Jasmine?"

"Probably still asleep. Along with Tom and Clary." Grabbing his cloak from a peg near the back door, Bae made his way out of the kitchen, which was stuffy, to the barn where they had all the livestock, including a flock of sheep, a cow, hens, and some horses. As the eldest of the sorcerer's brood, it was Bae's job to feed the animals and make sure the two younger boys did their share of chores as well.

Ivy set down her dishcloth and walked to the foot of the grand staircase (at least it used to be grand once, now it was just scuffed with the passage of many feet, despite Ivy's attempts to polish it once a week) and yelled up it, "Finn, Jack! Time to get up and do your chores! You're burning daylight here. Jasmine, wake up Elaina and get down here. I need your help in the kitchen. Breakfast won't make itself."

"Thought you was makin' breakfast, Ivy," said a tiny voice. A little girl with beautiful reddish-gold hair and eyes the color of the sky at midnight came out on the landing, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was dressed in a pink nightgown with ruffles at the hem and her bare feet were peeping out from beneath it.

"I am, Clary, but I still need some help," Ivy grinned up at her youngest sister, who had turned four two months ago. Clary was short for Clarissa, and besides being the baby of the family, was once the daughter of a noble family. Her father had given her away to Rumplestiltskin because he had six other daughters to marry off and didn't need a seventh one, so he left her on the castle doorstep as an "offering" to the Dark One as a baby.

Ivy had been ten then, just old enough to mind an infant and snort in disbelief at what some people thought about her father, as if he collected children like coins or something, and chopped them up for potion ingredients! Then again, people believed what they wanted to believe, and Ivy had learned long ago, after her mother Milah had abandoned her, Bae, and her father, that people were also selfish and cruel, especially to unwanted daughters.

"Move it, Clary, I gotta go milk the cow!" ordered Jack, shoving past the little girl, his tunic laces undone, his blond hair standing up, and his shoes untied. He thundered down the stairs like a herd of elephants.

"Jack! Did you even comb your hair?" Ivy cried, scandalized.

"I'll do it later!" he replied, and then the door slammed.

Ivy shook her head. "One of these days he's going to be mistaken for a haystack . . ."

"Who, me?" asked Finn, her second oldest brother, tall and lanky at thirteen, with a kind face and green eyes to go with his sandy hair, which was neatly combed. He had a handsomely carved flute tucked in his belt and was dressed in his customary blue tunic and gray trousers with comfortable old leather boots, a hand-me-down from Bae.

"No, Jack, who else? He's the only one who can take clothes freshly pressed out of the closet and put them on and look more rumpled than if he'd been sleeping in them," Ivy sighed.

"He'll grow out of it," Finn laughed, tousling Clary's head as he went by. "Once he starts noticing girls."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "That what happened to you?"

"Nah. They started noticing my flute," Finn smirked.

"You . . . _summoned_ them?" Ivy gasped. "Finn, you promised Papa you wouldn't use your magic without his permission!"

"And I haven't. I just play tunes and they come to listen. Sometimes," Finn grinned. "See you later. I want pancakes."

"Then you can make them yourself," Ivy said.

"Aw, you know I can't cook. I always burn things," he said, turning around.

"Learn then."

"Why? When I've got a perfectly sweet sister to make them for me?" he teased.

"Me?" Ivy blinked. Usually her siblings complained that she bossed them, but _someone_ had to keep order in the castle when her father was away.

"No, Jasmine!" Finn chuckled, then he ran before she could swat him with her dish towel.

There came a giggle from the top of the stairs. "Finn's funny!" Clary said.

"Uh huh. He's a riot," Ivy snorted, then held out her arms. "Come on down, baby. You can watch me scramble the eggs."

Clary started down the staircase, holding onto the banister lest she take a tumble, and Ivy, exasperated, called up the stairs. "Hello! It's morning, now shake a leg!"

"I'm coming!" Jasmine shouted back. "Come on, Elaina! Quit brushing your hair, and hurry up. I'm hungry and it's your turn to set the table," the nine-year-old informed her older sister, who was obsessed with preening in front of a mirror and trying out all the latest styles on her glorious mane of hair.

"Just a minute. I need to set this hair pin," Elaina said crossly, she was sixteen, two years older than Ivy, but more concerned with how she looked in front of the village boys than anything else. She was twisting her beautiful golden hair into a fanciful knot on her head, like a great lady of fashion.

"Who's going to see you? The chickens?" teased a boy with hair the color of a new penny. It was so bright that people noticed it from a fair piece, and a lucky thing it was, because the child was only three inches tall, despite being eleven years old. He was dressed in green and brown, like a forest ranger. He'd been swapped for a bag of gold pieces when he was five, once his greedy parents realized he'd never grow any bigger.

"Shut up, Tom!" yelled Elaina crossly. "Now get out and leave me be!"

"Okay, but you'll be in for it if you're still primping like that when Papa gets home," Tom answered cheekily.

A shoe flew out of the bedroom and landed in the hallway with a thud.

"Missed me!" Tom called as he climbed rapidly up the newel post and slid down the banister, the fastest and safest way for him to get down the stairs.

"Tom, what was that?" Ivy asked.

"Elaina's shoe. She threw it at me," the boy replied, hopping down to Ivy's hand, which she held out for him.

"Great. I'd better start the eggs. Or else we'll never eat," Ivy said.

"I'll do the toast," Tom volunteered. He could jump on the toaster lever, if someone put the bread inside the magical toaster.

"And I'll cut up the fruit and fry the bacon," Jasmine said, skipping down the stairs, her black hair bouncing like a curtain down her back. It was one of the few things Ivy allowed the nine-year-old to do to prepare the meal. She was a small girl, brown as a nut, with exotic eyes like a gazelle's, the fourth daughter of Caliph ibn Jahad of a far away desert kingdom. The kingdom had been taken over by a witch known as the Snow Queen, and Jasmine and Elaina, a visiting princess, along with everyone else in the palace, had been turned into ice sculptures. They had been freed when Rumplestiltskin broke the Queen's spell, but left orphans because the rest of their family hadn't been so lucky—they'd melted before Rumplestiltskin could change them back.

Cuddling Clary to her, Ivy turned and followed Jasmine back into the kitchen, calling, "Elaina, quit being a lazy lay-about and get over here."

"I am _not_ a lazy lay-about, Ivy! _Some _of us care about how we look," Elaina snapped, coming into the kitchen at last. She wore a pretty lavender gown with pearls on it and soft slippers, like she was going to tea at a palace.

"Please! Just get the plates before the boys and Papa come in." Ivy ordered, scrambling a dozen eggs in a bowl with a wisk.

"Some of us aren't scheming to steal a kiss from the innkeeper's son!" Jasmine said, as she turned the bacon on the stove.

Elaina glared at her. "Be quiet, you little tattletale!" She flounced over to the cupboard with the plates and silverware. "At least my mother wasn't a harem girl!"

"My mother was a princess, you shrew!" Jasmine fired back.

"What's a harem girl, Ivy?" asked Clary, sticking her finger in her mouth.

"Nothing you should be concerned about. Go wash up, sweetie." Ivy said quickly, then she glared at her two quarreling sisters and said, "Gods' sake, watch what you say around the baby! Papa will have our heads if Clary repeats anything."

"There'd be nothing to tell if Jasmine would keep her mouth shut," Elaina snapped, setting down the plates with a clatter.

"Or if Elaina would quit making eyes at all the boys who—" Jasmine began, placing the bacon on a platter.

"Enough!" Ivy yelled. "I'm sick of you two always fighting. Knock it off!"

"You're not the boss of me, Ivy," Elaina said mutinously, but she set the table without further chatter.

"Uh oh! I dropped the soap!" Clary said from where she was perched on a small stepstool beside the wash basin.

Ivy groaned, but before she could say anything, she heard Bae comment, "Thanks, imp! I needed that all wet." He came in and began to wash his hands, after gently putting his small sister and the stool off to the side. "C'mon, Clary-belle! Let's go sit down." He picked up Clary and carried her with him to the table, setting her down in the chair next to his in the dining room.

Just then Jack burst in with the milk pail, sloshing it.

"Jack, watch what you're doing! It almost ended up on the floor!" Ivy scolded, rescuing the pail before it spilled.

"Wasn't my fault! Finn shoved me."

"Never mind. Go wash up." Ivy put the pail on the counter, they would put the milk into bottles later and skim the cream off it for butter.

"Me first," Finn said, floating the basket of eggs he'd gathered over to Ivy before he scrubbed his hands.

Jack scowled as he waited his turn.

Ivy pulled the biscuits out of the oven and into a bread basket then carried them plus the scrambled eggs in on a tray.

Jasmine rescued the toast and buttered it, then brought it in with the bacon and some cut up apples and bananas, with Tom perched on her shoulder. Since not everyone ate biscuits, there was always toast at breakfast.

Elaina went into the kitchen to get the jam and butter, plus the coffee pot and the jug of milk and set them on the table just as they heard the front door open and familiar limping steps down the hall.

Everyone sat down at his or her place as Rumplestiltskin came into the dining room. He eyed his children's scrubbed faces and said, "Good morning. I smell biscuits."

"Good morning, Papa!" they all chorused.

"I baked them this morning," Ivy said, as Clary stood on her chair and threw her arms about her father's neck as he moved to sit down at the head of the table.

Rumple hugged her and said, "How's my lovely girl this morning?"

Clary snuggled into his chest like a little silkworm and lisped, "M' tired, Papa. Not hungry."

Rumple sighed. Lately his youngest had been going through a phase where she picked at her food. "How about you eat four bites for me," he persuaded, snapping his fingers at the little girl's plate.

A small amount of eggs, bacon, fruit, and a piece of toast appeared on the plate.

He set Clary down and handed her the fork beside her plate. "Here. Four bites . . . of everything," he added, knowing if he didn't specify, she'd try to get away with eating four bites of fruit and nothing else.

"How many's that?"

"Just start eating," her father ordered. "Pass the eggs, please."

When everyone had passed all the platters round and had filled their plates, Jack asked, "Where were you, Papa?"

Rumplestiltskin looked at his youngest son. "Don't talk with your mouth full. I was down at the village. Master Cummings had managed to turn his cow into a statue with a hedge charm and he needed me to sprinkle it with a potion to turn it back. The charm was supposed to make his cow give double cream."

"How dumb can you get?" Finn rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows hedge charms are no good."

"Stupid is as stupid does," Tom said, nibbling on his crust of toast. Not all of Rumple's children could do magic, but they all were familiar with how it worked.

"Did you fix the cow, Papa?" asked Jasmine, eating her biscuit smeared with strawberry jam.

"No, he left it like that. Duh!" Jack rolled his eyes at her.

"I did. And received some very nice apple tarts and cream for it, along with a week's worth of butter."

"Yes! Then we don't have to churn this week!" cheered Elaina, since it was her and Ivy's job to do that. "That was a good deal, Papa."

"I try my best," said the sorcerer. Most of the villagers that required his services could never pay him in money, not that he needed any, being able to spin straw into gold. So he dealt in other things with them, things that his family needed that they didn't have to make or shop for. He was known as a hard bargainer, and people knew this and came to him willing to pay accordingly.

Things grew calmer as the children and Rumple ate breakfast. The food vanished as if eaten by an army of starving soldiers.

All except for the food on Clary's plate which she pushed about until Bae glanced at it and said, "Better eat that, snippet. There are children starving in the Enchanted Forest."

"Why, Bae?" Clary asked, her eyes wide.

"Because the evil queen Regina wants to make ghosts of them! Muhwahha!" Jack cried, making a scary face at her.

Clary yelped and hid her face in Rumple's lap. "I'm a'scared of ghosts, Papa!"

Rumple frowned down the table. "Jack! Stop teasing your sister or else you can do double chores today." He stroked Clary's hair. "Don't be scared, Clary. Jack was just kidding. There are no ghosts here."

Clary peeked up at him with one blue eye. "There aren't?"

"No. I chased them all away. Now sit up and finish your eggs."

"Not hungry," Clary said stubbornly.

"Would you like to take a nap then?" Rumple suggested slyly.

"No!" Clary shook her head. She was wide awake now and not the least bit sleepy. She picked up her fork and ate another bite of eggs, then drank a sip of milk.

At Ivy's unspoken signal, the older boys and girls rose and began clearing the table. Clary could dawdle for another five minutes and since Rumple was the only one able to get her to eat, he would stay with her while the table was cleared, the dishes washed, and the sheep and horses put out to pasture for the day. After that would come lessons, since Rumple insisted all his children be able to read, write, and figure at the very least, and some of them also had lessons in magic, like Finn, Jasmine, and Ivy.

Bae stood up and pushed his chair in. He picked up his cloak and put it on as the rest of his siblings paraded past him with their arms full of dishes.

Rumple looked up. "Where are you going at this hour of the morning?"

"Out for a bit, Papa. I'll be back before noon for my sword practice with Jack and Finn," Bae said quietly, hoping his father wouldn't ask him any more questions. At seventeen he was almost old enough to leave home, but he wasn't quite ready to strike out on his own yet. Especially not now, when a pretty girl living near the village's edge had caught his eye.

Of course, he didn't dare say that, his nosy siblings would make his life hell if they knew.

"All right. I'll see you later," Rumple waved a hand at his eldest. Bae was mostly responsible and the sorcerer knew he could trust him to not get into trouble. As his son walked away, Rumple turned back to his recalcitrant daughter and thought back to when Bae was about this age, before Milah had left. When he was just a master spinner and known as a coward for deserting the army and refusing to fight for the old duke in the Ogre Wars.

Who would have ever imagined his life the way it was now? Certainly not Milah, who'd left him and his children to go adventuring on the high seas with her pirate lover. She'd thought him a coward and a fool. Rumple shrugged and wondered if she had gotten what she wished for. In the end, he thought he'd gotten a better bargain, for he loved Bae, Ivy, and all the other children he'd adopted, they'd helped a dark sorcerer become human again. Now, he mused, if only he had a wife to help him out, especially with the girls . . .

**A/N: Now that you've met Rumple's family, next you'll see Belle's. Who do you think Bae is meeting? And can you guess what fairy tale character each of the children are? **

**If you haven't seen the movie Yours, Mine, and Ours with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball, please do! This story is loosely based off that, and if you like funny pictures, watch it, it's a hoot. It was one of my mom's favorites, as well as mine, and it never fails to make me laugh. You can rent or buy it, it's well worth it. Just make sure it's the original, as they did remake it, but the original is so much funnier. **

**I own nothing, of course, except my crazy imagination.**


	2. There Was an Old Woman

**2**

**There Was an Old Woman**

Bae paused as he went out of the castle and glanced towards the pasture where Rogue, his father's prize black mare that could outrace the wind when she wished, and her two-year-old colt, red Flicker, grazed. He supposed he could throw a hackamore on Flicker and ride him to town, but then he ran risk of being spotted by someone. And someone down in the village was always gossiping, especially about the sorcerer's children in the castle on the hill. Bae had heard one old man call him and his siblings "heathens" and "thieves" and others whispered they were slaves to the dark magic. People were so dumb sometimes that they believed their own lies! They professed to be afraid of the Dark One, but whenever a charm went awry or a binding didn't work or some idiot drank a potion and turned himself into a chicken, who did they run crying to? None other than Rumplestiltskin. Of course, Rumple's help was never free, all magic came with a price, after all. But there were no dark sacrifices of young girls or children, no dead animals, and no blood rituals at the dark of the moon.

You'd think people would have realized facts by now, but Bae had drawn a conclusion long ago that facts weren't something people put a great deal of stock in. Or else they'd have seen their "dark" sorcerer changed years before, when Bae was nine and Ivy was six, and Rumplestiltskin had adopted his first child, Finn.

Finn's parents were minstrals, they traveled from town to town, and Finn had learned to sing and play the flute and drums by the time he was five. But tragedy followed the traveling musicians, as they were waylaid on the road out of the village by brigands and the only survivor was Finn, who had been shoved in a trunk and tossed out of the wagon by his desperate father.

He might have died too, had not Rumplestiltskin found him, chancing on him because he'd felt an odd presence of magic nearby that wasn't his own. Finn had inherited the Bardic Gift, and had the ability to play any instrument and use music to influence and summon people or animals. Because of that inherent magical talent, Rumple knew he'd never be accepted as just any man's child, so he adopted the boy and Fiin became his second son. Finn had been almost six when that happened.

Then came Jack, whom Bae discovered hiding in their barn one night during a bitter cold snap. Jack was a runaway from a village nearby, he'd been a blacksmith's apprentice, sold to the man to pay off a debt his poor woodcutter father owed. The blacksmith was a crude savage of a man, who beat his wife and apprentices daily, usually for the slightest thing. Finally, after months of such treatment, Jack lit out for the hills, figuring starving was better than being beaten to within an inch of his life. He came upon the castle, and was too cold to care that it was the abode of a dark sorcerer. At least it was warm, and to a freezing waif, that was everything.

Bae found him in the stall with their cow, drinking milk straight from her, and Jack had immediately offered his services in exchange for a few good meals and a place to sleep by the fire. He'd been six then, spindly, shivering, and bruised all over from the blacksmith's fist. Bae had brought him inside to his father.

Once Rumple had seen Jack with his own eyes and heard the lad's story, he told him he was welcome to stay—not as a servant, but a member of his little family. After an application of Rumple's healing salve, Jack healed right up, and though he could be impulsive and cheeky at times, proved to be a loyal and good son, albeit without magic.

After Jack came Tom, then Jasmine and Elaina, and last of all Clary. A mixed-up motley crew if ever there was one, but that didn't matter. All of them, even prickly Elaina, loved Rumple fiercely, as well as each other.

Bae loved all of his small brothers and sisters, though at times they tried his patience to no end, but right then he resolved to have a few hours of freedom, so he left Flicker in the pasture and walked to the village on foot. Actually, his destination wasn't the village proper, but a path alongside it, a path that twisted and wound and led to a most unusual house.

Set back into the trees, hard by a stream, was Shoe House, so called because it was actually a huge shoe, a relic of a giant that had been killed long ago by some hero. The hero and the giant fought some leagues away, and the giant's shoe had been flung here by that struggle.

An enterprising woman by the name of Miranda, who had a bit of magic of her own, cast certain preserving spells over the shoe and moved into it, saying it was as good a house as any. Miranda became the local wise woman and healer, and people came from far and wide to get her cures. She also took in a few orphaned children. She became known locally as the old woman who lived in a shoe. Her niece, Belle, came there eventually, fleeing the devastation of her kingdom by an army of trolls out of the Snowcap Mountains.

Belle had once been a princess of Avonlea, and married to one of that kingdom's knights, Gaston, until she divorced him for infidelity. She showed up one morning at her aunt's door, she and her three children, looking like vagabonds, having just fled the sack of Avonlea.

Five years later, Miranda passed away from old age, having lived a full life and taught Belle all her healing charms and potions. In her will, she left Belle all her wordly goods, including Shoe House, and also the orphans she cared for. Thus Belle became the new mistress of Shoe House, the local village Healer, and the mother of ten children, seven orphans and her own three.

Bae knew the story of Shoe House and its occupants very well, having been told it from one of them on a fine spring morning. It was that certain someone he was meeting now, down by the stream that bordered the cornfield behind the house.

He crept about the outskirts of the village, which was just now stirring. There came the sound of chickens clucking, women calling children and husbands to breakfast, the hissing of the blacksmith lighting the day's fire, and the innkeeper opening the doors to the inn. The village was called Valley Way, since it was in the valley below the Dark Castle on the hill.

Soon he came upon the windy twisty path and followed it until it stopped just before Shoe House. Then he slipped through the tangle of brush bordering the clearing and came to the stream.

The stream burbled and gurgled, providing fresh clean water for the inhabitants of Shoe House and their animals. Bae leaned against a willow and waited.

Soon there came the sound of a tinkling bell, and a tall girl with long dark hair and brilliant blue eyes came into view, leading two nanny goats wearing bells around their necks. The girl was dressed in soft green homespun with a calico apron and serviceable black shoes. She carried a crook in one hand and clicked her tongue to hurry the goats along.

Bae sighed as he watched her. She was beautiful, with a pure wholesome beauty like a soft summer's day, with no artifice or cosmetics to make her more than what she had been born as.

She came from a royal lineage, but that had been lost, so now she was simply as she appeared, a young country lass, though one who could read and write.

"Come on, Fannie and Sunny! Get a drink before Peter comes to milk you," she talked to the two goats as if they understood her.

Maybe they did, for they ran baaing to the stream and began drinking. The girl leaned on her crook and stared dreamily into the water.

"Psst! Serenity! Hey, Rennie!"

The girl spun about so quickly she almost fell in the stream. "Who's there?"

"A lonely little goatherd," Bae called out, stepping from the willow's sheltering branches.

Serenity, or Rennie, as she was known to her family and close friends, put her hands on her hips and pretended to glare at the tall young man. "Ha! More like a sorcerer's wandering brat! You almost scared me out of my skin, Bae Gold!"

She shook a finger in the unrepentant Bae's face, using the surname the villagers had coined for Rumplestiltskin, because he could spin straw into gold, they called him the Gold Sorcerer, and his children were the Gold Children, unless they were getting into mischief, and then they were simply the "magician's pestilential brats" or "the devil's brood".

Laughing, Bae pulled her into his arms and gave her a resounding kiss. "Forgive me, Rennie? I thought you remembered I was coming here today."

She kissed him back eagerly, loving how she felt when he held her in his arms, like a precious treasure, and he would know, since he was surrounded by unique and expensive things all the time up at the castle. She wrapped her arms about his muscular chest and laughed softly. "How could I forget? I've thought of little else since yesterday. But I didn't expect you so soon. How did you get away?"

"I just . . . told Papa I was going out for a bit. He didn't ask where."

"Lucky you," she said, pulling away slightly so she could look into his face. She was shocked that such a good-looking compassionate man had come from that dark sorcerer. And even more so that he loved her, Serenity Avonlea, who was only a Healer's daughter. "I have to do chores in order to meet you somewhere."

"I already did mine this morning. It's not like I lay about the castle and get served," Bae pointed out. "And at least you don't have to look after the geese anymore."

"Thank all the gods for that!" she said, tossing her head. "You have _no_ idea how vicious and nasty geese are until you have to herd them up and down the village," Rennie winced as she said that, recalling her stint as a goose girl two summers ago, when she was fourteen, and trying to help out her mother by making some extra money. "I think I still have scars on my calves from Old Snap's beak."

"Want me to kiss it better, Ren?"

"Bae! You . . . you wicked rogue!"

"Me? Wicked? Never, my love. And only a little bit of a rogue. Because you like me that way." He gave her a melting glance from his dark brown eyes.

"I _love_ you that way," she corrected, and she leaned her head against his chest, listening to his heart beating. "I just wish . . . we didn't have to meet in secret like this."

"I know," he sighed against her hair, which smelled like fresh lemon and herbs. "But your mother would beat me over the head with a broom if she ever caught me kissing you. And I could never court you properly, she'd never let me because she probably thinks I'm evil like my father, even though neither of us are."

"It's his reputation she fears, not the man himself."

"Reputation isn't everything, Rennie. He helps the villagers whenever they ask."

"For a price."

"So? Nothing's ever for free. Doesn't your mother charge people who come to her to be healed?"

"Well, yes. But sometimes she accepts things like eggs or bread or fruit instead. Especially from the poorer folk."

"So does my father. Do you know what he charged Master Cummings this morning for fixing his cow? A week's worth of butter and some tarts. Not even five copper pieces. Probably not even as much as that potion cost that Cummings bought."

"I'm sorry, Bae. I didn't mean to imply he was . . . unfair. I'm sure he drives a good bargain, like any good tradesman. Let's not quarrel."

He could see she truly regretted what she had implied, so he nodded. "I don't mean to be so prickly, but I've gotten into the habit of defending him, because he won't half the time . . .Anyway, what about going for a little walk?"

"Where? I can't be gone too long, or else Peter or Rafe will come looking for me. The goats need to be milked for breakfast."

"How come that wasn't done before?"

"Rafe overslept and Peter never wakes up unless he's forced to. He'd sleep all day in the hayloft if we let him," Serenity sighed. "Him and Aurora are like the patrons of Hypnos. They'd sleep through an earthquake if we had one. Mom claims it's a disease. I forget the fancy word she uses. I wish she'd cure them of it though! It makes more work for me and everyone else."

"Come on , let's walk down here for a bit. Ten minutes and I'll have you back before you can say Jack Sprat." Bae took her arm.

Serenity called the goats, who followed behind like trained dogs, and walked hand-in-hand with Baelfire downstream.

They came to a spot where the rising sun touched the water and made it sparkle. They stood for awhile, admiring the view, until Bae heard a loud crashing and grunting in the thick brush just beyond the stream. He stiffened, and wished he hadn't left his sword at home. How stupid, to come out here unarmed! "What's that? It sounds like a wild boar."

Wild boar were dangerous, because they weren't afraid of men and had been known to gore and trample men even while being hunted, they were vicious and quick. Bae quickly shoved Serenity behind him and said, "Let me borrow your crook, goose girl." He took her crook and held it before him defensively, like a fighting staff.

The snuffling and grunting came closer. Bae half-crouched, the crook held before him.

"Bae! I don't know what's out there but . . . if it were dangerous, the goats would be running," Rennie said. "And they're not."

"Maybe they're too dumb."

"They are not! My goats are smart—smarter than some people."

Suddenly the brush parted and a large bear padded out of the undergrowth. He was black as night and almost as tall as Bae. He had bright black eyes and he gave a soft bawl as he caught sight of Serenity.

Rennie giggled. "Oh, Baron, you silly old thing! You gave us such a fright." She went to go around her boyfriend.

"Rennie, stay back! It's a bear."

"Yes, I _know_ that, Bae." She came around him and walked up to the bear, and patted him on the head as if he were the family dog. "Hello, Baron. Did you have some grubs for breakfast?"

The bear sat down and rubbed his head along Rennie's hand.

Bae gaped at them. "Are you crazy, Ren? That thing could eat _you_ for breakfast! In two bites."

"He'd never. This is Kristen's pet."

"Your mother lets your sister keep a bear for a _pet_?"

"Well, she really had no choice. They came together. You remember how I told you about Kristen, whose family ran a traveling circus? And how her mother and father were animal trainers with their own act?" Kristen was one of her orphaned siblings.

"Yes, but you never said anything about a bear! Just that they died in a fire."

"That's right. Someone was smoking a pipe, and they caught the straw in the mess tent on fire and it spread so quickly the only one who escaped was Kristen. She had taken Baron, who was a cub, for a walk and wasn't there when the fire spread. Baron was one of three bears in her parent's circus act. He's just as tame as a puppy." She scratched the bear behind the ears.

Baron groaned and licked her.

"Yuck! Bear germs!" Rennie frowned. "Sometimes I think he thinks he _is_ a dog." She wiped her face on her sleeve.

"Yeah, sure. A dog that weighs hundreds of pounds and can hug you to death."

"Come pet him, Bae. He doesn't bite." Rennie coaxed. "You're not . . . afraid are you?"

"I'm no coward. But I don't want to lose an arm if he gets hungry."

"I promise, he's gentle as a lamb. June rides on his back, for heaven's sake!" She held out her hand to him. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

Bae walked over and reluctantly put his hand in hers.

"Baron, this is Bae. Say hello!"

To Bae's shock, the bear sat up and offered his paw, like a gentleman would to shake hands.

"Holy hopping horned toads!" Bae exclaimed. He cautiously took the bear's huge paw in his. "Uh . . . pleased to meet you, Baron."

Baron made a strange sound, between a growl and a whine. Then he pushed his huge head into Bae's chest so hard he almost knocked the young man down.

"Hey! Take it easy!" Bae protested, then he scratched the bear behind the ears as Serenity had. "If you knock me down I could break something."

"Then my mom would fix you," Rennie grinned. "Baron, let's go home to Kristen. She's got bread and honey for you."

Baron swung his head around. He gave a sort of bawling sound and swung off back towards the house. The two goats, bleating, followed him.

"I'd better get back. If Fannie and Sunny come home without me, Mom will think I'm hurt and call out the neighborhood," Rennie sighed.

Bae put his arm around her waist and together they walked back to her yard. There they reluctantly parted. "I'm coming into the village on Wednesday, two days from now, to sell some of Papa's potions. You can stop by my booth on your way to the market."

"I'll see you there." She kissed him lingeringly. "I love you, sorcerer's apprentice."

He blushed. "Will you never let me forget trying on that stupid hat?"

He was speaking of a time when he was twelve, and wanted so badly to be like his father, that he foolishly put on a blue cloth hat Rumplestiltskin had on a shelf without bothering to find out what it did. It had been a magic hat, and he'd thought he could use it to help him with his chores. He'd used it to help him wash the dishes, only to find out that he couldn't control the hat's magic. It had washed the dishes . . . and then kept washing, bringing in bucket after bucket of water and conjuring mops until the whole kitchen and part of the hall was flooded.

Not even Finn's flute could stop it and when Bae tried to get the hat off, he discovered to his horror that he couldn't. The castle would have become an underwater palace had not Rumple returned when he did and canceled the hat's magic. Bae recalled being scolded thoroughly and threatened with a spanking, and also being made to clean up most of the floor by hand, after Rumple vanished half the water. That was the last time Bae ever touched one of his father's magical objects.

Serenity smirked. "You have to admit, it's funny now. You remind me of Peter, who took Mom's broom and tried to fly off the roof because he thought it was magical and ended up falling and spraining his arm."

"Papa almost broke _my_ fingers," Bae said ruefully. "And I'd have deserved it too."

"I'm glad he didn't." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him again. "Until we meet again."

"I love you too, goose girl. Forever and always." He waved before starting back down the path towards the village, leaving her staring forlornly after him.

"Oh! I wish I was eighteen," Rennie said crossly, folding her arms across her chest. "Then we could run off and get married and to hell with everyone." Then she sighed, for she was only sixteen and she really didn't want to get married without her family there.

"Rennie? What are you doing out here? Daydreaming again?"

Serenity turned at the sound of her mother's voice. "Coming, Mom."

Belle stood on the back porch, which had been built onto the shoe after a hole had been cut in the side to make another door. She was wearing her customary blue dress with a white apron, her hair bound back with a soft blue ribbon. The dress brought out the color of her eyes, a robin's egg blue, which her eldest child had inherited, along with her dark hair. "Hurry, Ren. We need to get breakfast on the table before there's a riot."

Serenity came inside, and wondered if the riot had already started.

Kristen was petting Baron, who was licking sticky honey right from the jar, and honey was dribbling all over the girl's nightgown. Kristen had beautiful golden curls and was twelve, though she was small for her age.

"Kristen!" gasped Belle. "Get that bear out of here, he's getting everything sticky!"

"But Mom, Baron's hungry!"

"Bears don't belong in my house. Now get him out in the yard before he breaks every stick of furniture in the place."

Pouting, Kristen tugged on Baron's ear and the bear lumbered to his feet, the jar of honey still stuck on his nose.

Rennie glanced around in dismay. Phillip's cat was lapping up spilled milk as Nicholas, who was eight, was eating a bowl full of granola cereal.

His twin, Nora, was trying to put jam on a slice of bread, and getting most of it on the floor.

Ariel was singing some kind of operetta as she stirred a pot of oatmeal, which probably had burnt on the bottom as Rennie smelled something singing, and this time it wasn't her sister's red hair.

"Ariel, turn the heat down!" she cried, rushing over to rescue the oatmeal.

"Huh? I was listening to the sound it made. It reminds me of water," her thirteen-year-old sister said dreamily.

"But it looks like mud," Peter reported gleefully, peering at the oatmeal. "When are you going to learn how to cook, Ari?"

"She's a mermaid. Mermaids swim, don'tcha know that, Peter?" June spoke up from setting the table. She was seven, a little wisp of a girl who looked like the wind could blow her away.

"Ariel, go help June set the table," Rennie said. "I'll see if I can fix this."

"If you can't let me know. I don't want to die of food poisoning," her brother Rafe said dryly. He was only a year younger, but already a head taller than Rennie and had the good looks of his father, but lacked the older knight's fascination with women. Rafe loved archery instead, and was a dead shot with a bow.

"You won't die, Rafe. Mom would heal you," said his younger brother, Phillip, coming in the back door.

"What happened to _you_?" Nora asked, staring. "You look like you had a fight with a mud puddle. And the mud won."

"Nope. I had a fight with Georgie. He called me a fatherless reject and pushed me into the mud, so I shoved him into a rose bush," the six-year-old declared proudly.

"Phillip Avonlea!" Belle scolded. "You look like a vagabond. What have I told you about fighting with the neighbors?"

Phillip looked slightly guilty. "But Mom, I _had_ to! He insulted Papa's honor."

"Our father had no honor, Phillip," drawled Rafe, eyeing his brother and smirking. "You don't remember him, but I do. He was a faithless son of a—"

"_Raphael!_ Don't you dare use that language around the little ones," Belle snapped. "You're not too old to eat soap."

"Mom, I'm _fifteen_. And he was no good, and you know it," Rafe said mutinously.

"You may be fifteen, but as long as you live under my roof, you'll mind your mouth, young man," said his mother sternly. "Or else you can go eat in the barn with the rest of the animals." But while she might scold her eldest son for his language, she couldn't argue about his father, whom she had caught in bed with one of her ladies-in-waiting when Phillip was a baby. She had divorced him quicker than she could snap her fingers and had never regretted it, except when Phillip brought up the fact that he had no father.

"Yes, ma'am," Rafe muttered. He hated his father, but he loved his mother, even when she scolded.

Serenity rolled her eyes. "Good one, Rafe." She scraped what she could of the oatmeal out of the pot and sprinkled it with brown sugar and some raisins.

"Phillip, go and wash up and change your clothes," Belle ordered wearily. She'd been up all night helping to deliver Mrs. Montmercy's baby and still felt tired, despite four cups of coffee.

"Why? I like being like this," her youngest protested.

"Go, Phillip! Now."

Her son glowered at her, reminding her unpleasantly of her former husband. "But _Mom_ . . .!"

"Must I count to three?"

Phillip shook his head. "I'm going!" he said, knowing full well that if Belle got to three, it meant a spanking. "You're so mean, Mom!" He trotted up the stairs to the loft he shared with Rafe and Peter.

Belle sighed. Some days she had the patience of a saint. Today she had none. "What happened to that sweet obedient boy I used to know?"

"He died," Rafe said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Because only the good die young."

"Then you're gonna live forever," yawned Aurora, coming into the kitchen.

"You forgot to brush your hair, sleeping beauty," Nick snickered. "It looks like squirrels built a nest in it."

"We won't mention what yours looks like, Nicholas," Aurora stuck out her tongue at him. Then she yawned again. "Where's the coffee? Don't tell me you drank it all, Rafe."

"You shouldn't drink the whole pot, Your Grace," Rafe slid the coffee pot over to her. "It'll stunt your growth."

"Mind your own business, Raphael," Aurora took the pot and poured herself a cup.

"Just saying what Mom always does," her brother replied impudently.

Serenity set the bowl of oatmeal, toast, and venison sausage on the table. "Hush and eat, all of you!"

"Why's Mom sleeping at the table?" asked Kristen, coming inside with the empty honey pot.

"Because she was up all night delivering a baby," Serenity said.

"Is doing that hard work, Ren?" asked Phillip, returning to the table dressed in new clothes.

"As hard as healing us all of measles, little brother," said Aurora. "That's why I'm never getting married."

"Like any boy would marry you when you snore half the time," Peter said.

"Look who's talking! You howl in your sleep," June remarked, climbing up on her chair.

"Least I don't play with fire."

"It was an accident!"

"How come we always have oatmeal, Rennie?" Phillip asked, staring at his bowl unhappily.

"Because it's quicker and cheaper than eggs," Serenity answered.

"And she forgot to gather them this morning," Nick declared.

"Is Mom sick? Is that why she's sleeping in her chair?" asked Ariel. Her voice always sounded musical, even when she was merely talking. It was a legacy of her mermaid heritage, even though she'd been outcast and human for five years now. And she aged one year for every three human ones, so she was only thirteen, despite being around ten when she'd come to live at Shoe House.

"If you all don't quit arguing, _I'm_ going to be sick. You're giving me a migraine," Serenity announced.

"You skipped your coffee this morning," Rafe said, pushing the pot towards her.

"Is coffee your cure for everything, Rafe?" Rennie sighed and took the pot.

"Works for me," he laughed. Then he began to eat his oatmeal, adding cinnamon before he did so.

The kids finished breakfast quietly, tiptoeing about their sleeping mother to clean the table and wash the dishes. They left Belle with a plate of toast, some fruit, and the single remaining sausage, in case she woke and was hungry.

Rennie looked up at the bunches of dried herbs hanging above her head, which Belle used in most of her tisanes and tonics, and thought she ought to go and grind a few more herbs in the stillroom.

Rafe got up and took his bow down from the wall, along with his quiver. "Come on, Pete. I think we need another deer."

His ten-year-old brother rose and got the hunting horn down from the mantle. "And some rabbits for rabbit stew."

"I wanna go!" Phillip cried, as the two headed out the door.

"Next year you can," Rennie said softly.

"I'm always too little," Phillip said crossly. "I hate being the youngest."

"I did too once," Rennie laughed.

"You were never young, Rennie."

"We were all your age once. A long time ago," Kristen said. "Want to help me spin some yarn?"

To Serenity's relief, Phillip willingly went to do that chore, and she had Nick and Nora gather the wood and Ariel make the beds while Aurora dusted. That left her with grinding up herbs, leaving her time to think about Bae and when she would see him again. She glanced at her sleeping mother and wondered if things would be different if her mother still had a husband. Maybe then she wouldn't have to work so hard.

_Bae would make a good husband, _she thought dreamily as she ground up ginger. _But he's mine and Mom needs someone older, someone she can depend on to be by her always and love her forever, unlike my wastrel father. _

**_A/N:_ So what did you think of this chapter? Can you guess who some of Belle's children are? **


	3. Market Day

**3**

**Market Day**

Bae had almost sold his entire stock of lucky potions by the time midmorning had arrived. He was hot because the sun shone directly into the stall where he was standing, and even the small awning didn't help much. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud to be seen, and that meant all the villagers and even travelers from further away came to the market to buy the farmer's produce, get their bridles and horses shoed by the blacksmith, buy food from the baker, the butcher, and others who sold things like hot chicken pies, turkey drumsticks, and pastries. Of course there was also the chandler, who made candles, and Bae's own booth, which sold magical potions and small artifacts.

It was ironic, in a way, for no matter how the villagers muttered behind their hands about Rumplestiltskin and his brood of children, they still came to patronize their wares every Wednesday and third Saturday of each month. Rumple concocted different potions for the booth each week, and also different charms to be hung on doorways, wagons, or worn as a necklace or ring or earrings.

Bae, Ivy, or Elaina usually ran the booth, taking turns, every few hours, while the rest of the family perused the goods at the market with their father. Rumple gave each child a certain amount of money for food and for whatever caught their fancy. Bae had been saving his to purchase a new leather sheath for his sword, since his old one was cracked and worn. Ivy usually bought books or different colored inks and journals, for she liked to write and read. For Elaina, it was hair ornaments and hats, the better to show off her spectacular long hair, which almost reached her feet, and was a brilliant gold color, like honey poured from a pitcher. Jasmine adored colorful scarves and shawls, Finn liked new pieces of music, Jack enjoyed candy and knives, while Tom liked puzzles and games where you had to think in order to win. Clary, of course, loved dolls and stuffed animals.

Bae shifted from foot to foot. It was almost eleven thirty and his stomach was rumbling from the smells across the way. Annie Pelham, the village baker, was selling crumb buns, tarts, sticky bread, and cookies. They all smelled divine and Bae was starving, for he'd eaten breakfast at seven o'clock that morning, before going to feed the animals and help his father crate up the merchandise and put it in the wagon.

He peered out at all the people going by and wondered where Rennie and her family were. It was impossible that they wouldn't come to market day, everyone did, whether rich or poor, a bargain could always be had today, for food or supplies. Next to Bae's stall was Nate Montmercy, who sold spools of colored thread and fine cloaks and cloth, he was a weaver and spinner, though not quite as good as Rumpelstiltskin had been once, and still was. But Montmercy respected the Gold sorcerer, unlike half the villagers, and was willing to have his stall next to that of the infamous magician and his family.

Bae turned to watch a young man and his lady who were eying one of the glass beakers with a lucky potion in it, making sure they didn't try to slip a vial into a pocket when he wasn't looking. You'd think people would be smart enough to not steal from a sorcerer, but even though the potions were charmed against theft, people still tried. Until the potion began screaming and any attempt to get rid of it made it stick to the thief's hands.

Bae had caught more than a few that way, and one and all had ended up in the village jail or run out of town once their duplicity was discovered. Either that or Rumple had transformed their hands into something else, like a cat's paws or horse's hooves or duck feet for a day, so that all would recognize the thief and know to stay away from him.

"Would you like to buy a potion?" Bae asked politely.

"How much?" asked the customer.

"Five silvers, or we could make a deal. What are you willing to trade?"

"I could use a bit of luck. We're getting married in a month." The young man smiled fondly at his fiancée and gave Bae five silvers and took a potion.

Bae tucked the money into the cash box beneath the table and wished he could marry Rennie in a month's time. When he straightened, he saw Rennie leaning on the end of the booth, smiling at him.

"Hi!" she greeted him, her eyes shining like polished sapphires.

"You didn't forget," he said, coming to take her hand in his.

"Of course not. Why would I? Have you seen much of the market?"

He shook his head. "Hardly. I've been trapped here selling potions since we arrived."

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Thought you'd never ask." He turned to where their wagon was situated behind the booth and called, "Ivy! Would you mind taking over for two hours while I get something to eat and stretch my legs?"

Ivy, who'd been lying atop the straw in the back of the wagon, reading, looked up and said, "All right. Could you wait a minute, though? I'm almost done with this chapter."

"Sure," Bae said, he turned back to Serenity and pretended to show her some potions so Ivy would think she was a customer and not here just to see him.

Soon Ivy came and tapped him on the shoulder. "Go on, Bae. I'll mind the booth for awhile."

"Thanks, Ivy," Bae said, then he strolled casually out the back of the booth and pretended to walk a little ahead of Rennie, towards the leatherworker's stall and the others selling food.

He felt a light touch on his arm as Rennie caught up with him. "Where do you want to go first?"

"Um . . . how about we get some chicken pies and vegetable skewers?" she suggested. "I can hear your stomach growling from here and I'm hungry too."

"Sounds great to me," he grinned, and led the way to Old Nan's stall, which sold wonderful savory chicken pies and skewers of grilled vegetables for a few coppers. Next to that was a stall selling homemade cider, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic.

As Bae bargained for their lunch, Rennie surreptitiously took his hand beneath her cloak and held it. How she wished she could show her affection openly, but she knew then there'd be gossip and that was the last thing her family needed. Maybe they could sneak off to the stream after they had gotten their food. Her family was here, but they'd not miss her for a few hours.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Meanwhile, Belle was making her way back from checking on Mrs. Montmercy and her newborn, little Sophie. She carried a basket full of cabbages, onions, and turnips on her arm, as well as several bunches of herbs that she used for some of her herbal teas and medicines. The basket was heavy, and Belle carried it with both hands so she didn't drop it. It was payment for delivering the baby a few days ago.

As she picked her way through the street, which had ruts in it from the rain a day ago, she dodged a runaway goat and its owner who was chasing it. Coming around the goat and the running boy, she walked full tilt into someone, and spilled her basket all over the ground.

Her face heating, she exclaimed, "Oh, how clumsy of me! I'm terribly sorry, sir!" She had banged right into a tall man with long brown hair and charming brown eyes wearing a bright green tunic and black leggings.

"It's quite all right, dearie. That silly goatherd should have watched where he was going," said Rumplestiltskin. He knelt to help Belle pick up the fallen produce.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," she protested, picking up onions and laying them in the basket. "I can manage . . ."

"I insist," he replied softly. He placed a cabbage in her basket. Then he reached for a turnip.

So did Belle, and their fingers met.

A tingling shock quivered up her arm and she gasped. She looked up, and met warm brown eyes filled with appreciation. She quickly snatched another cabbage from the street and put it in the basket. She had never felt like that before touching any man, not even her ex husband. "Th-thank you. I'm Belle, the healer of Shoe House." She grabbed a bunch of hyssop lying before her because she suddenly longed to put her hand on his arm.

"Charmed, my lady. My name is Rumplestiltskin."

She paled. "The sorcerer!"

"Don't be frightened. I never hex pretty women on market day," he teased. He went to hand her another sprig of marjoram and again their hands met.

He felt as if someone had just shocked him with a lightning bolt. There was a strange attraction between them, something he hadn't felt even with Milah. He wanted to run his hands through her hair, the color of a fine mink pelt, to cup her delicate face in his hands and kiss her breathless.

He drew in a breath. What was wrong with him? He never looked at women this way. Especially pretty ones like her. He'd heard of the reputation of the Healer of Shoe House, and it was rumored she was a good one. He was surprised she hadn't run screaming down the street by now. Most people did not relish being in the company of a sorcerer for any longer than it took to make a deal with him for a charm.

Belle placed the last bunch of herbs in her basket and stood up.

But when she reached for it, Rumplestitlskin picked it up instead. "Allow me. This is much too heavy for your tiny hands."

She shook her head. "These tiny hands, Master Magician, have done much harder work than carry a basket of cabbages. I delivered a baby not two days ago with them."

"That may be, but it wouldn't feel right to be walking beside you and watching you carry that burden and not assisting you," Rumple replied. "Where were you headed?"

"My house. It's just up the way. If you're sure you don't mind . . .?"

"I don't." He carried the basket easily, walking beside her with a long-limbed grace that surprised her.

It also surprised her that he was so solicitous of her, since that didn't fit with the image she had conjured of him in her head, of a reclusive hermit unwilling to go out of his way for anyone. Perhaps she had been mistaken.

"You know, if I hadn't bumped into you, I could have gotten my sons to help me," she remarked.

"How many do you have?"

"Four. And six girls as well."

He raised an eyebrow. "All your own?"

"No, seven are orphans, three of them are actually mine. Though I don't differentiate that way between them. They are all my children."

He nodded. "I have eight myself. Two with my former wife Milah and the other six I've adopted. There are four boys and four girls between them."

"We're quite the pair then. It must be quite trying sometimes, raising all of them on your own," Belle said.

"Sometimes. But no less than it is for you," the sorcerer replied.

Soon they arrived at Shoe House, and Belle directed Rumple to put the basket on the kitchen table. "I'll get the children to sort everything later. Would you like something cool to drink? It's gotten very warm out."

"Thank you." He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

Belle gave him a mug of cool water, then got one for herself as well. As she sipped it, sitting across from him at the table, she thought how odd it was that she had invited a strange man, a sorcerer no less, into her home and was sitting at a table alone with him. It was almost improper. But Belle found she didn't care. It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone she could actually converse with on more than the weather and the price of apples.

She found herself talking to him about the properties of certain herbs and actually enjoying the conversation, because he was as knowledgeable about them as she was, until before she realized it, a half-an-hour had passed.

"Oh, we should get back! My children will be wondering where I am."

"Yes. I need to check back at my booth and see what's been selling. Come, let's go." He held out his arm.

She took it. It had been a long time since anyone had offered her that courtly gesture, but she found she did not feel awkward. Instead she felt excited.

They exited the shoe, and Rumple turned to her and said, "It's past noon already. Would you permit me to treat you to lunch?"

"I . . ." she faltered, unwilling to incur any more debt to him.

"It would be a nice change, to actually eat with an adult for once. Not that I don't enjoy the company of my children, but every so often I find their bickering and silly chatter gets on my nerves."

"Me too," she agreed. "All right. You can pay today, but next time I will."

"As you wish," he said, and found that the day actually seemed brighter at the prospect of eating lunch alone for once with a beautiful lady who had more between her ears than fluff.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Almost an hour later:_

Elaina was looking at the pretty silk kerchiefs for sale, trying to decide which one would go best with her hair—the deep purple one with sparkles on it or the pink one with golden studs when she felt a sharp tug on her braid.

She spun about, thinking it was one of her brothers, since Jack and Finn often teased her by pulling her long hair. To her shock she saw a large man with crooked teeth and lank brown hair wearing a stained tunic holding her thick braid in his hand. His middle sagged over his rope belt and he stank of onions and fish.

She gasped and cried, "What do you think you're doing? Let me go!"

"Hello, pretty!" he crooned, pulling her towards him. "You has the most lovely hair I've ever seen. Come here and give old John a kiss, won't ya?"

"I will not! Unhand me, you brute!" she yelped, wishing one of her brothers or even her father were close by. She yanked back on her braid, bringing tears to her eyes.

He laughed and nearly pulled her off her feet.

Before she could scream for Finn or Jack, someone said, "Is this lout bothering you, miss?"

She looked up to see a tall handsome youth standing there, broad shouldered, with a bow over his shoulder. "What's it look like?"

He scowled and glared at the big man. "I suggest you let her go, sir. She doesn't appear to want your attention."

"Mind your own business, boy. I'm gonna have me a good time today . . ."

"Wrong," Rafe said flatly. The one thing he could not abide was a man who treated a woman disrespectfully, probably because he'd seen his father do so to his mother. He grabbed the stinking fisherman's hand and wrenched it off the girl's braid. "Keep your hands to yourself. If the lady wanted to be pawed, she'd ask you."

Furious, the other man took a swing at Rafe, bellowing, "I'll teach you to interfere with me, you nosy whelp!"

Rafe ducked, knowing instinctively where the big lout was going to try and hit him. He drew back his own fist and let it fly into the man's gut, making the fisherman double over with a groan.

_Great! Mom's going to kill me for getting into a fight,_ he thought as he brought his other fist around and struck the stupid oaf square on the jaw.

Old John staggered, his eyes rolling, but he wasn't down.

By now several people had drawn around, scenting a disturbance. Some of them called out advice, others just watched.

Elaina drew back against the scarf booth, clutching her hair protectively. She hoped the handsome young man wouldn't get flattened defending her honor.

"Elaina! What's going on here?" Rumplestiltskin called, seeing his daughter standing there looking somewhat the worse for wear, her braid coming undone, and smudges of dirt on the hem of her lavender day dress.

"That—that ugly oaf grabbed me!" she cried. "By the hair. He—he wouldn't leave me alone until this young man came to help."

Her father's eyes narrowed into slits. "He hurt you?"

Belle stared and then cried, "Heavens, that's my son Rafe!"

"He's really beating the spit outta that guy!" Jack remarked admiringly. He'd been looking a weapons display nearby when the fight had started. Then he clenched his own fist. "And I'm gonna help him. Nobody hurts my sister!"

Before he could charge into the fray, Rumple grabbed him by the back of the tunic. "Hold it, boy! He'll knock you into next week, Jack. Stay here and look out for Elaina. _I'll _handle this."

He waded into the fight, reaching out and grabbing the larger man by the shoulder. "Excuse me, but did you really hurt my daughter, you stupid ass?"

John turned. "Who asked you?"

Rumplestiltskin gave him one of his patented Dark One stares. "If you were drunk, I might let you off since you weren't in your right mind, but there's really no cure for being an idiot."

The fisherman shivered. Those eyes seemed to look right through him. "Listen, it's none of your business . . ."

"Anything that concerns my daughter is my business," Rumple snarled. "Apologize right now for hurting her or else!"

"Better do it, John!" someone called from the crowd. "Or else he'll put a curse on you."

"Ha! I bet all he can do is card tricks. His power's all a sham!" John brayed.

Rafe panted, ready to go at the big galoot again, but needing to get his wind back.

"He's dead," Jack predicted, standing in front of Elaina.

"Think so? Try these on for size!" Rumple exclaimed angrily. He wriggled his fingers and suddenly donkey ears grew where John's normal ears had been.

John felt his head, then he screamed when he realized what had happened. "Ahh! I've got . . . donkey ears." He gazed at Rumplestiltskin in horror. "Please, change them back."

"No. You'll keep them for the next few days," Rumple growled. "Count yourself lucky. Next time I'll hex off your arms and legs and let my daughter wipe her feet on my new doormat."

"No! No! You can't do this!" John ran about in circles, clutching his absurdly long ears.

"It's done, dearie. Now quit that screeching before I steal your voice from you," the angry sorcerer threatened.

Everyone watching started laughing at the spectacle John was making.

Elaina laid a hand on Rafe's arm. "Thank you for rescuing me."

Rafe blushed. "It was nothing, miss. He was asking to get his ass handed to him. Rafe Avonlea at your service."

"I'm Elaina Gold," said Elaina, eyeing him up and down.

"Rafe! Look at you. You're a wreck," Belle cried, coming up to them.

"Hello, Mom." Rafe turned, smiling guiltily at his mother. "It's just a bit of mud, don't fuss. I'm a lot better off than _him_," he pointed to John.

The big fisherman, furious at his humiliation, suddenly charged Rumplestiltskin, screaming at him to take it off.

Rumple just pointed a finger.

Suddenly the man grew fur and a tail and soon a donkey stood there, braying noisily.

"That suits you better, I think," the sorcerer snorted. "Now get!"

Then he conjured a switch out of the air and whacked the donkey with it, making the animal bolt out of the square, heehawing for dear life, while the laughter of the townspeople followed behind it.

Seeing that the entertainment was over, the crowd began to break up, until only Jack, Elaina, Belle, and Rafe were standing there next to Rumple.

"That was wicked awesome!" Jack crowed.

"Papa, that was brilliant!" Elaina said, running over and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"You taught him a good lesson," agreed Belle. "How long will he be like that?"

"A few days. A week." Rumplestiltskin shrugged. He put an arm about Elaina. "Are you all right, dearie?"

"I'm fine now," Elaina asserted. "Thanks to you and this gentleman here." She patted her hair back into place. "That big lug thought he could kiss me!"

"Over my dead body," Rumplestiltskin hissed. "He's lucky I was in a good mood."

Belle gently nudged Rafe forward. "Rumplestiltskin, meet my son, Raphael Avonlea."

"Well met, young man," the sorcerer shook Rafe's hand.

"Just call me Rafe. And really, that idiot had it coming."

"Even so, you have my gratitude for helping out when you did. I almost wasn't in time," Rumplestiltskin said. Then he got an idea. A way to see Belle again without seeming too intrusive. "As a token of my thanks, why don't you all come to the castle for dinner tomorrow night?"

"_All_ of us?" Belle repeated, her eyes widening.

"Yes. It would be rude to only invite Rafe and you and leave the others to starve. Besides, I want to meet the rest of your family. Come at six o'clock."

Belle found herself agreeing, and not only because it would be rude to refuse. She also wanted to see him again. And this was the perfect excuse. "We'll be there."

Then Rafe took her arm and escorted her back up the street.

Rumple looked wistfully after her, some rather racy images dancing through his head. Images which involved the fascinating healer naked on his bed amid gold satin sheets.

"I can't wait to tell Finn and Tom and Bae. They missed all the action," Jack said.

"I'm sure you'll tell them all about it once we're home," Rumple laughed.

They reached their booth and found Ivy putting out the last of the wares.

Elaina rushed up to her, her face flushed. "Oh, Ivy! You'll never guess what happened! This—this disgusting oaf grabbed me by the hair and he tried to kiss me and I couldn't get away."

Ivy gasped in horror.

"I always said you should cut half your hair off, Elaina," Jack remarked, helping himself to an apple. "Then an enemy couldn't strangle you that way. And you'd still have plenty of hair left over for a normal person."

"Shut up, Jack! I'd look like a fever victim if I did that, and I'm _not_ a hero! Anyway, there I was, with this lout hanging and drooling all over me when this young man with dreamy brown eyes and a bow comes up and says, is this lout bothering you, miss? Now mind, that was a rather stupid thing to ask, because anyone with eyes could see I'd rather jump in a mud puddle than be with old fat and stinky, but I said yes and _then _he hauls off and hits the big lug one and next thing I know, they're fighting and people are cheering and it's like a tavern brawl. And my rescuer wasn't bad looking at all, Ivy."

"Well, you sure know how to pick 'em, Elaina," Ivy said. Her afternoon had been hardly as eventful, selling charms.

"What about me, what am I, chopped liver?" asked Rumple indignantly. "You left out the part where _I_ came and turned that miserable piece of trash into a donkey."

"That was great too, Papa. But you don't have shoulders like an oak tree and your hair doesn't fall like this over one eye," Elaina stated.

"Hey! I'm not bad looking for—"

"For an old man of thirty-five, Papa, I know."

"Old! Thirty-five is not old!" Rumplestiltskin sputtered. "I'm in the prime of my life!"

"Elaina's only sixteen, Papa, and her tastes haven't matured," Bae said, coming up to stand behind his father.

Rumple turned around. "Oh, here you are. What were you doing all day?"

"Selling potions most of the morning, then I went to have lunch by the stream," Bae replied slyly. Of course he didn't mention that the lunch had also included Rennie. "What's Elaina babbling about? Some new face has caught her eye?"

"Bae! You oughta been there!" Jack jumped in excitedly, his blue eyes shining. "It was like the best fight ever, except for watching Big Sam and Oxhead wrestle on Saturdays, cause that's good too . . ."

Bae listened, half in shock, as Jack filled him in, then he said, "Well, I'm glad Papa gave him what for, the lousy scum! I'd have beat him out of town with the flat of my sword. What did you say the name of this rescuer was again?"

"He said his name was Rafe Avonlea, and I've invited him, his mother, and his siblings to eat dinner with us tomorrow," Rumplestiltskin said.

"That's . . . that's what I thought you said," Bae muttered.

"You seem to recognize him. Do you know Rafe?" asked Rumple.

"Only by reputation. He's a dead shot with a bow. Gets a lot of deer to feed his family and some others who can't provide really well any more, like Old Widow Perkins, who's blind, and her daughter Penny. He's a good sort, like all the Avonleas," Bae replied quickly. Then he felt his heart accelerate. _I can't believe I'm going to see Rennie again, two days in a row. Tomorrow will be a night to remember!_

Little did he know that his father was thinking almost the same thing about a certain healer with bright blue eyes.

**A/N: Hope you liked all the mayhem and romance going around!**


	4. Dinner at the Dark Castle

**4**

**Dinner at the Dark Castle**

Ivy started preparing for the big dinner the moment all the breakfast dishes were washed, dried, and put away. Because this would be the first time any guests save Jefferson, her father's old friend, had been to the castle, Ivy knew she had to plan a dinner of epic proportions. Luckily she had several cookbooks to get ideas from and her magical talent was for kitchen witchery, which meant she could use her powers to help her get things going in the kitchen and save herself time and frustration.

Well, some frustration. She asked Elaina and Jasmine, who had been to feasts in their respective kingdoms before, how many courses they should serve and what they should be like.

"Somewhere between six and seven," Elaina said.

"Sometimes we had thirteen courses, including a soup course, a fish course, and a meat course," Jasmine recalled.

Ivy looked aghast. "Even with you helping, I could never manage that. I think six courses are fine. We'll have a dish of appetizers, maybe something simple, like . . . umm . . . those vegetable lamb kabobs you like so much, Jasmine. You _do_ know how to make them, right?"

"Yes, I think so. But it's been awhile." Jasmine admitted.

"I'll bake some bread, that always goes well with anything," said Ivy. "What else? How about that soup you used to eat in your palace, Elaina? What was it called again?"

"It was called consommé. Chicken broth, white wine, leeks, and mushrooms," Elaina recited.

"Sounds easy enough. You go pick me the mushrooms and leeks from the garden. I'll take care of the rest." Ivy told her. "How about a nice garden salad? With some walnuts on top and a raspberry vinaigrette dressing?"

"And some shredded cheese. You can't forget that," Jasmine reminded her.

"Right. That takes care of three courses. Now for the main ones." Ivy flipped through a few cookbooks, reading at lightning speed. "It's a good thing I can memorize everything I read," she said. "How about a ham with honey glaze and also a roast beef with gravy?"

"And some roasted potatoes," added Elaina.

"Rice pilaf," Jasmine suggested.

"Green beans almondine and broccoli with cheese. At least Clary will eat that," Ivy stated.

"Yeah, she loves broccoli with cheese," Jasmine giggled.

"So do I," Elaina added.

"And for dessert I'll make a chocolate mousse cake and we'll have fresh fruit too. How's that sound?"

"Better than some of the feasts we had," Jasmine said. "Except for the honey balls with walnuts. I miss those."

"We'll make them some other time." Ivy said. She rolled up her sleeves. "All right, let's get started." She clapped her hands and began to call out ingredients for bread. "Flour, water, salt, yeast."

The pantry flew open and sacks of flour, salt, a container of yeast, and a bucket of water floated their way to the counter.

She also called out other ingredients, and bowls, spoons, and cups came out of their cupboards and various sauces and things began to mix and stir themselves. A large pot filled with water and chicken broth went onto the stove and onions began to slice themselves on part of the counter while Ivy began to measure out the ingredients for bread dough. She had the dough start to mix itself while she shredded lettuce and grated carrots for the salad. The tomatoes cut themselves and so did the cucumbers.

She had the salad toss itself in a huge bowl while she measured out more ingredients for the dressing. A bag of walnuts came out of the pantry and she sprinkled some into the bowl of salad.

She whisked the salad dressing together and then sent the salad and dressing into the spring house, a small house connected to the main kitchen by a little door and it was kept cool by ice and magic. The salad and dressing would be kept cool until it was time to serve them.

Then she turned back to the bread and began to knead it before letting it rise in a corner of the counter near the stove.

By then Elaina had returned with the mushrooms and leeks.

"You mind cutting those up for me?" Ivy began.

"Umm . . ." Elaina frowned. She hated cooking, and was glad Ivy was good at it.

"I'll do it," Jasmine offered, bringing in some fresh peppers and a lamb shank from the spring house.

"Elaina, can you polish the table in the dining room and set it?"

"Yes. Should I use the good china and silver?"

"Of course. And the satin table cover," Ivy said. "And the good goblets too."

Elaina went and began preparing the table, linens, and place settings. She also cut some flowers and arranged them in a crystal bowl for a centerpiece.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

_Three hours later:_

Bae wandered into the kitchen, and sniffed appreciatively. "What are you cooking now, Ivy?"

"Soup. And the bread is rising again. Bae, I need a ham and a roast beef from the smokehouse. Can you get me them? I don't want to use my magic. I might need it later."

"Can I have some bread with butter when it's done?" her brother wheedled.

"Yes, you bottomless pit! Now get my meat, please!"

"I'm not the bottomless pit, that's Jack. He can eat me under the table," Bae protested. Then he left, going out to the smokehouse where they kept sides of ham, sausage, bacon, and other meat. Most of it had been from the pigs butchered two months before, though they also had a few chickens and beef as well.

Bae returned with the ham and Ivy set it in a roasting pan. She did the same with the roast beef.

"When will that bread be done?"

"I'll call you when it's ready," his sister answered. "Now scat!" she flapped her dishtowel at him.

Two hours later, seven loaves of bread were cooling on the counter, Elaina had gone upstairs to pick out clothes and style her hair for dinner, and then the boys stampeded into the kitchen, followed by Clary. They were all starving. Finn had been practicing his flute upstairs in the conservatory, Jack had been watching the sheep in the far pasture, Tom had been planting small kernels of corn in the vegetable patch, as well as throwing rocks at the crows to keep them away from both himself and the vegetables. Bae had been outside in the yard, practicing some maneuvers with his sword riding Flicker.

"What's for lunch, Ivy?" asked Jack, setting his shepherd's crook near the door.

"Ivy, I hungry," Clary said, sounding pitiful.

"There's fresh bread, butter, jam, and cheese for lunch, and milk if you want it," Ivy said. "I'm too busy to make you all sandwiches today."

"How about this ham?" asked Finn, coming over to poke at it.

"Get! That's for dinner, Finn Gold!" Ivy scolded, smacking his hand away with a dishtowel.

Finn jerked his hand back. "Fine, all you had to do was tell me. Not start smacking my hands!" He was very sensitive about his hands, because a musician's hands, as well as a sorcerer's, were his livelihood.

"Sorry, but I didn't want you getting my food all grubby," Ivy said, half-apologetically.

Jasmine came back into the kitchen from the springhouse and began cutting slices of bread and some mild cheese for everyone, including Ivy, who would forget to eat unless reminded. Rumple came in from his lab and joined them.

Everyone feasted on warm bread, butter, jam, and cheese. Most of them had milk to drink, except Rumple, Bae, and Jasmine, who drank apple cider.

"How's the dinner coming, Ivy?" asked her father.

"Okay, Papa. It should all be ready by six," Ivy said.

"Good. You're an excellent chef, my girl," Rumplestiltskin praised.

"I helped too!" Jasmine said.

"Both of you are wonderful cooks," he amended, not wanting to show favoritism and risk having Jasmine get jealous. He glanced at Clary, who for once had eaten all of the food set before her. "I'm going to try and get your sister to take an N-A-P," he told them, spelling the word so Clary wouldn't understand and fight him. He wanted her well rested before the company arrived, so she wouldn't be cranky, the last thing he needed was his youngest behaving like a brat in front of Belle or her family.

Ivy and Jasmine preened and nodded at him, proud of their accomplishments.

Rumplestiltskin turned and looked at Clary, who was drinking her milk. "Hey, snippet, want to read a story with me?"

Clary set her cup down and jumped off her chair and ran to him. "A story! A story!"

Rumple bent down and picked her up as she grabbed him about the knees. "Come on, we'll go upstairs and I'll read you some nursery rhymes."

Clary grinned and shouted, "Simple Simon met a pieman goin' to the fair . . ."

Rumple chuckled and mounted the stairs, with Clary clinging to him and reciting her favorite nursery rhyme for all she was worth.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumplestiltskin rocked his youngest to and fro in the old maple rocking chair. Clary yawned and snuggled against him, drifting in and out of sleep. He had read her several pages of nursery rhymes until she grew sleepy and then he started rocking. He'd done this same thing to both Baelfire and Ivy when they were this age, finding that all three of his children found the motion soothing and calming and went to sleep without a fuss almost every time.

The rocking chair was in a corner of his bedroom. It used to be in the nursery, but he'd moved it here when Clary was a baby, because it helped get her back to sleep when she was an infant and he was feeding her two and three times a night.

Gradually, Clary's eyes closed and she slept, cuddled against him, her deep auburn curls contrasting with her porcelain cheek like a baby cherub's. She was a beautiful child, and Rumple was often amazed that the stupid nobleman who had been her father didn't see that and had left her on the doorstep like a bottle of old milk or a discarded pair of shoes. Instead he had seen only another daughter to be dowried and had abandoned her.

But then, perhaps Clary was better off with him, who loved her, than with a father who didn't care about her and might have married her off to the first lout who came along when she was older. Rumple would never do that to any of his children, he would allow his daughters the freedom to choose a husband the same way his sons were free to choose a wife.

He considered each child he had as a blessing, and their sweet and yet powerful love for him and his for them had broken the Dark One's curse to pieces. The curse of the dagger was to have knowledge and be lonely and unlovable, it made one practically immortal but it took away one's ability to feel compassion and love. But his children had loved him despite the dagger's curse, and true love broke all spells of bondage.

Now that he was free he found that he saw the world through new eyes, eyes both innocent and wise, and his heart was no longer lonely and afraid. He still bore his magic, for he had come to understand that his magic was an innate thing, he'd been born with it as had some of his children, and he'd die with it the same way. He still bore all that knowledge the curse had given him, only now instead of using it to make people suffer, he used it to make people aware of how Power could be a help instead of a hindrance or a harm. Power could also punish, as he'd done to John with the donkey hex, but those spells were finite, and the lessons taught with them hopefully stuck. And if he weren't as invulnerable as he had been, so be it.

He rose carefully and put the sleeping child down on his bed, being careful not to jar her into wakefulness. Clary was very sensitive, and would wake at the slightest movement sometimes. She stirred as he put her down on his feather mattress and he quickly lay down beside her and pulled a quilt over both of them.

She half-woke, and Rumple pulled her to him and whispered, "Go back to sleep, pretty baby. Shhh . . ."

Clary curled up with her head on his chest and soon fell asleep again, this time sucking on her thumb. It was a habit he'd tried with little success to break, and supposed she would grow out of in time.

He found himself growing sleepy as well and decided a nap would do him good too and soon he was snoozing beside his daughter with the patchwork quilt of many colors, sewn by Elaina, tucked about them.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Down at Shoe House, Belle was in a flurry, trying to prepare her children and herself for the big dinner that night. She'd made sure that all her kids had clean clothes and if some were mended a bit, the patches didn't show. Nora and June were excellent seamstresses, and could mend holes in clothing in a twinkling, and Aurora was a witch with a spinning wheel, and could spin thread and cloth so fine it was like wearing clouds but it was sturdy enough to withstand vigorous little boys running about and getting their clothing caught on briars. She had made two sets of trousers for Phillip, who was always wrecking his clothes, as well as a shirt and small cap. The only problem was she tended to fall asleep as she spun and have to be woken up three and four times before a task was complete.

Belle knew it was because of a disease called narcolepsy "sleeping sickness" and so she made sure that some coffee was always provided to try and keep Aurora awake as she spun.

She was going frantically through her armoire, trying to find a suitable dress for tonight, but it was hopeless. There just wasn't much call for a country healer with ten children to go to any kind of fancy ball or party, and all of the dresses she had were "serviceable" and "plain" and screamed country bumpkin. She wished she had some of her dresses from before the sack of Avonlea, but they had all burned when the trolls invaded her castle. She hadn't bothered burdening herself with such fripperies, she and her children were running for their lives, so who cared about silks and satins? She hadn't, not then, but now she wished for something with a bit of lace, or satin ribbon.

As she sat on her bed, staring at her clothes in dismay, she heard the sound of small feet tromping up the stairs.

Then Phillip and Peter burst into her room.

"Mom, my shoes don't fit! They pinch my feet," Peter said, showing her one foot encased in black leather. These were his fancy shoes, or at least ones not to be worn doing chores or playing about the village.

Belle felt the offending foot, and sighed. "Looks like you need new shoes again. Well, see if Rafe has a pair that'll do. You can stuff them with rags if they're too big."

"Why can't I just wear my boots?"

"Because we want to make a good impression on the Gold family, so we need to look our best," she told him. _However shabby that is!_

"Oh. All right, I'll ask Rafe," Peter said, yanking off the shoe and turning to go down the stairs. "I'll give these to Nick, they'll fit him."

"Mom, Rennie says I hafta take a _bath_!" Phillip whined. "And it ain't even Saturday. I just had one three days ago."

"Falling into the creek doesn't count as washing yourself," Belle said. "Like I told Peter, I want to make a good impression, so all my children will be neat, presentable, _and_ clean. Understand?"

Phillip groaned. "I'm gonna die of pneumonia. Old Sally says if you wash too much that's what happens."

Belle snorted. "I take a bath every other day and I'm not dead yet. Dirt breeds disease, not soap and water, Phillip. Now go and take your bath."

"Aww, _Mom_!"

Rafe popped his head in, hearing all the ruckus. "C'mere, scamp! If you take a bath like Mom said and quit all that backtalk, I'll play rummy with you."

Phillip adored his older brother, but he was stubborn. "But Rafe . . . I _hate_ baths. Rennie always puts all those flower oils into the water and it makes me smell like a sissy."

Rafe scooped up the complaining boy under one arm, "I'll tell her not to, little brother. I'll tell her to heat up some water and we'll have our own tub with nothing but a bit of pine needles in it. Now quit squirming!"

"Rafe, put me down!"

"No, because you're quicker than a greased eel." Rafe laughed. "And don't even _think_ about trying to bite or kick me, or I'll whack your ass."

Belle lost the rest of the conversation as they continued down the stairs. She was grateful that Rafe was willing to help her out with Phillip, for she really didn't want an argument on her hands today of all days. It was tough trying to be both parents and she wondered how Rumplestiltskin managed. Maybe they could trade parenting tips.

A smile quirked up her lips. Ha! Two widowed single parents and do they talk about how lovely the moon is in the night sky or about how her eyes sparkle like diamonds? No, they talk about their kids. And yet . . . when they had touched yesterday, there had been a spark, something, that had made her quiver. And she had loved listening to him, that voice of his, so mellow, so . . . sexy. Gaston had never been so solicitous of her health, then again, as a princess, she'd hardly had to exert herself to pick up so much as a knitting needle, never mind a heavy basket of cabbages. Still . . . she had appreciated his kindness. And the way the wind had tousled that mane of curly hair of his . . . dark hair, as dark as the secrets he supposedly kept. But she was not afraid. Belle wanted to know more, and perhaps at this dinner would find out what made the solitary sorcerer tick.

If only she could find something to wear!

"Mom, how does this dress look on me?" Ariel came in, wearing a pretty pink dress with small tucks at the waist and a bit of freshwater pearls lining the bodice. She also had cute lavender seashell earrings and an abalone pendant. Part of her long red hair was caught back by a sea gem, a brilliant purple flower that lived in the ocean and which Ariel dived to retrieve.

Belle nodded. "You look very pretty, dear. I wish I could find a dress like that."

"You need help finding a dress?" asked Ariel. "I can help! And so can Kristen and Aurora. Rory's the best at clothes."

"I know. Your sister has the best fashion sense out of all of you," Belle admitted.

"I'll call them!"

"Okay, but Ari—change first! The dinner's not till another three hours," Belle called. _And heaven help me if I'm not ready then. Maybe I'll plead a headache. Or pneumonia._

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle twisted this way and that in front of the old stand up mirror in her bedroom. As promised, Aurora, Kristen, and Ariel had come up with something for her to wear for the dinner party. Aurora had dragged out her fashion magazines and the girls had put their heads together and plotted for awhile, saying in whispers, "We have to make Mom look . . . younger . . . more today . . . more sexy!" This had been followed by giggles.

Belle had no idea what current ladies' fashion was like, she'd been stuck in this quaint backwater village, as Gaston would have said, for years now, ministering to the sick and tending her children and her herb garden, none of which required fashionable gowns to wear of an evening. She didn't even want to see the magazines Aurora had, afraid she would go into a depression about how frumpy she looked.

"Mom! I found the _perfect_ dress for you!" Aurora shrieked giddily. "It's called _Crimson Vamp_."

"_Crimson Vamp?_" Belle repeated. "Rory, I'm not a maneater . . ."

"Oh, Mom! Don't be such a fuddy-duddy. Isn't it perfect, girls?" Aurora asked her team of designers.

Ariel and Kristen nodded like marionettes.

"She'll look like a circus star!" Kristen exclaimed.

"Or a sea anemone," Ariel agreed.

_Circus star? Sea anemone? _Belle thought in alarm. "Girls, that sounds like . . . umm . . . I don't know about this . . . where's Rennie?" She could usually count on Rennie to be practical.

"She's letting down the hem of her old green skirt and matching jacket," Kristen replied.

"Come on, girls! Quick, to the sewing room!" Aurora ordered, sounding for once like the princess she used to be, before her kingdom had been absorbed by a powerful neighbor to the east who had killed all of her family in a military coup. Aurora managed to escape with the help of her trusted nursemaid, Flora, who had gotten her as far as Shoe House before leaving her to help the rest of the rebels. She had died as King Barek had put down the last of the revolts, but at least Aurora was safe.

Now Belle looked at herself in the mirror, after the girls had worked on her for over an hour and a half, and wasn't sure if this was the right look for her.

For one thing, the dress fit, but it was . . . tight in some unexpected places. It had a low cut bodice which caused some of her cleavage, okay a _lot_ of her cleavage to show. The tightly laced corset she wore beneath the gown caused her breasts to fill out the bodice even more. She was tempted to cover them with a shawl, but her daughters assured her that's how she was _supposed_ to look.

"It' s the fashion nowadays, Mom!"

"Well . . . if you say so, but . . . what about the color? I don't usually wear red."

The dress was made of soft yet slinky satin and was a brilliant screaming _red_. Belle usually wore blues, purples, greens-colors that reminded her of the foliage or water flowing, that were relaxing—sometimes even shades of amber or yellow, but never could she recall wearing this shocking screaming _red_.

"It's so you'll catch his eye, Mom. Don't you want him to . . . pay attention to you?" asked Kristen, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yeah, he won't be able to look away," Aurora added.

Belle wasn't sure if that were a good or bad thing? Did she really want to catch the eye of a sorcerer? With eight children? She smoothed the front of the gown, Aurora and Kristen had done a fine job of sewing it on the old sewing machine. "Does it really have to have all these . . . flounces along the back and the hem? And it barely reaches past my knees."

"Nobody wears floor length gowns anymore, Mom! It's like . . . so Dark Ages," Aurora sniffed.

Belle glanced down at her black fishnet stockings and the red high heeled shoes she now wore. She wasn't accustomed to high heels, she tottered like a windblown aspen. It had been too long since she'd worn them and even then . . . had they really been that high?

But Kristen assured her that all the girls dressed with them nowadays, to make them as tall as their boyfriends. "So they're not looked down on for being tiny."

Had she felt that way with Rumple yesterday? Granted he was almost a foot taller than she was, but . . .

She reached up to touch her hair, which was stuffed under a grandiose white powdered wig with three tiers of hair, which Aurora claimed was _the_ height of fashion these days among the rich and famous. Having never seen any of the rich and famous since fleeing to Valley Way, Belle had to take her word for it. But the wig felt awfully hot and scratchy. Ariel had pinned a red sea gem into it.

Then they'd done her face, putting on rice powder, staining her lips carmine, and even putting on a beauty patch by her chin "like the Duchess of Wintermere", whoever that was. Ariel outlined her eyes with squid ink to make them stand out and even added some false eyelashes, "so you can bat them like all the heroines do in the tales."

Belle hoped they'd stay on, they felt sticky and odd. But then, being uncomfortable was the price one paid to look fashionable, or so her aunt had told her long ago, when she'd gotten fitted for her first corset.

"All right, girls, go get dressed. I think you've done enough for me," she said.

"You look wicked, Mom!" they squealed. "You're going to knock that old sorcerer's head off!"

"He's not old. He's two years my senior," she protested. "Gaston was older. By about five years." Maybe the age difference had been the problem between them, she thought now. Or maybe not. Some men liked variety.

She wondered if the girls were right. She hadn't turned a man's head in years. Still, was this _really_ the way fashionable ladies dressed nowadays? Her aunt would have had heart failure. The times sure had changed.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumplestiltskin was dressed in his finest set of black breeches and a silken gold tunic with a velvet cloak which clasped to his shoulders by golden buttons shaped cunningly to look like spinning wheels. He wore his best leather shoes with gold buckles and his hair was pulled back in a tail with a simple silk ribbon, also gold. He had even, at Bae's and Finn's insistence, taken along his gold headed cane.

"We don't want you trip and fall now, Papa." Finn had teased.

"Fall? I'm not in my dotage yet, you young whelp!" Rumple had scolded, shaking his cane playfully at the boy. "Watch your mouth, before I take this to you!"

"You can try . . . but first you'd have to catch me, sir!" Finn smirked. "How high can you jump?"

"Insolent wretch!" the sorcerer bellowed and promptly chased his insolent child halfway across the hall, using a tiny bit of magic to animate a statue to put out a stone foot and trip Finn up, slowing him down long enough for Rumple to grab his ear and give him a few mock whacks and then tickle him unmercifully.

"You . . . cheated, Papa!" Finn gasped, giggling uncontrollably. "You used magic!"

"Ah, but you never said _how_ I had to catch you," Rumple pointed out. "Next time be more precise in your challenges, boy." Then he tickled him until Finn howled. "Are you going to behave?"

"Yes . . . I'll be good . . . please . . . mercy!" Finn begged, laughing so hard he almost couldn't speak.

"Oh, just beat him senseless, Papa!" Bae laughed. "Gods know, he deserves it."

Finn straightened, glaring at his older brother. "Uh huh, like _you_ got beat for the hat incident, Bae?"

"I wasn't talking about that," Bae answered, knowing that he'd never live that down. Not so long as Finn remembered.

"Stop it, you two," Rumplestiltskin ordered. "The way you talk, Belle will think I'm some nasty wretch who takes a stick to you every day." He straightened his cloak.

"We'd set her straight, Papa," Bae said, for nothing could be further from the truth. It was a rare day at the castle when their father lost his temper and raised a hand to any of them, and the sorcerer's idea of a spanking was five swats with his hand. A far cry from the whippings Jack had endured from his master, or that Jasmine had seen given to the kitchen boy who dropped a platter in her palace.

"Go and check on the others, Bae. Make sure Clary still has her shoes on and Jack doesn't look like something that crawled out of a ragbag," Rumplestilskin instructed. "They ought to be here any moment."

"Shall I play you some love songs, Papa?" Finn queried mischievously, pulling out his flute and playing a short soulful aria on it.

"Hush, boy! Go and plague someone else, before I take that flute away tomorrow," his father warned.

Finn quickly tucked the flute away and followed Bae back to where his sisters and brothers were assembled, knowing just how far he could push his father before getting into serious trouble.

Rumplestiltskin waited anxiously by the door, hoping all was in readiness and that his children, please all the gods, would behave themselves tonight.

Then the doorbell rang and he almost went deaf from the clanging.

_Got to tone it down, _ he thought ruefully, rubbing his ear. Then he threw open the doors.

There was Belle on the courtyard stairs and a few paces beyond were her children.

For a moment, Rumplestiltskin just stared. He had trouble finding his voice because of the . . . _vision_ upon the steps. He was nearly blinded . . . by the eye-throbbing array of color and bosom thrust before him. It was awful! He couldn't believe what Belle had on . . . she looked like a . . . for a moment all language deserted him.

Then he managed to blurt out the first thing to come into his head. "What happened to _you_?"

"The girls helped me pick out a dress. They made it . . . from some fashion magazine. Do I look that bad?"

"Oh, no, you look . . ." _like a trollop on a midnight stroll_, he thought, then he tried desperately to cover, saying, " . . . lovely, dearie. You remind me of a painting I once saw . . ." _hanging above the bar in a pub. What sort of magazines were they looking at—Fashions for Tavern Wenches? How to Get a Man Alone in 60 Seconds or Less?_

He managed to keep his tongue behind his teeth and instead took her hand, bowing gracefully and kissing her wrist right on the pulse point. He helped her into the castle. "Welcome to my home, Belle."

He nearly had to duck to avoid being slammed in the face by the three-tiered white wig she was wearing, like a huge wedding cake, as she staggered suddenly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she blushed almost as red as her dress. "I'm not . . . used to walking in high heels any more and Aurora insisted . . . and this wig, it's um . . ."

"Rather high?" he suggested, brushing some powder off his cloak. The damn thing shed like a shaggy dog! "And if your shoes pinch, dearie, take them off." _You're already half undressed, who cares if you're barefoot._

Before Belle could protest, her ankle-turning heels vanished . . . to reappear against the wall beside the door.

"Better?"

"Much. Thank you . . . Rum." Then she turned and gestured at the mob of children following her. "Rumplestiltskin, may I present my children." As she called each one, they came forward and shook his hand and either bowed or curtseyed.

"Serenity. My eldest daughter."

"Charmed, dearie. She looks just like you."

Rennie blushed. "Everyone says that, but Mom's prettier."

"Rafe, whom you met yesterday."

"You look better than you did last time I saw you, boy."

"Mom fixed up my cut lip," Rafe smiled, shaking Rumple's hand.

"Aurora. She wants to be a dressmaker."

"If I can find someone who can spin and do patterns like I do," Aurora said, yawning.

"You spin, dearie? So do I."

"Straw into gold, or so I've heard."

"That's one thing," Rumple allowed, then thought _that dress flatters you, girl. Pity you didn't make one like that for your mother._

Next came Ariel and then Kristen, who gave him a wave. A quiver went through him as he shook both girls' hands and he wondered if Belle were aware that these two had magic.

Peter, who was sandy-haired and fond of blue, bowed to him, then asked bluntly, "Have you magicked many people? Like you did to old John?"

"Peter! What a thing to say!" Belle gasped.

But Rumplestiltskin did not seem to mind the curious question. "Only if they happen to hurt one of my family. Sometimes the only thing an idiot like that understands is force."

"I wish I had magic. That was so cool!" Peter said, then he went inside.

"These are the twins, Nick and Nora."

"Pleased to meet you!" they chorused.

Rumple thought they were sweet, like golden cherubs.

Then he saw a little girl standing before him who looked like a willo-wisp, with the palest blond hair and gray eyes, wearing a simple blue dress and silver shoes. He knelt, so as not to loom over her, and asked, "What's your name, little one?"

"June. Can you read fortunes?"

Rumplestilskin laughed. There was a question he'd not been asked before. "I haven't tried my Tarot cards in awhile, dearie. But maybe I will after dinner. We'll see." Then he took her hand gently.

Again he felt a shivery feeling as his magic roused. _You too, eh? I need to speak to Belle about these girls, and soon._

"June, for heaven's sake! He's not a Gypsy!" Belle shook her head. "And this is my youngest, Phillip."

Phillip came and shook his hand boldly. "Is it true you stopped the Ogre Wars singlehandedly?"

"In a way, young one. I made a treaty and negotiated with them," Rumple replied.

"But you didn't . . . like blast them with your magic?"

"No, because then the fighting would have continued. And that's not what I was aiming for," Rumple said. "Sometimes, Phillip, magic is best served by _not_ using it, even though you can." At the boy's puzzled look, he said, "Maybe I'm not explaining that well. Come, meet my children and then we'll have some lovely appetizers my daughters Ivy and Jasmine made."

There were plenty of gasps and sighs as they made their way to the dining room, where the Gold children waited. Clearly the castle wasn't at all what they expected. The girls and Tom, who liked wielding a feather duster, had done a great job at making the castle shine.

Once all the children had greeted each other and Belle, Rumple escorted her to a chair on his left and seated her. Ivy clapped her hands and cups and glasses filled themselves with cool cider and a sweet wine for Belle and Rumplestiltskin.

Plates were passed about and filled with the delicious lamb kabobs Jasmine had made and small cubes of cheese or summer sausage with sesame crackers.

Belle went to sip her wine, and found some strange flecks of white floating in it. She paused with the glass halfway to her mouth.

"That's Galadriel's Golden Aspen vintage," Rumple said. "Nice bold fruity flavor and deep golden color. Not that I know too much about wines. Just a few. Try it."

"Are those . . . white flecks supposed to be there?"

"White flecks . . . here, let me see that." He took the glass from her and peered at it. Then his eyes twinkled and he smirked. "Dearie, your wig is shedding."

"My . . . my wig?" Belle feared she might die.

"The powder . . . that's what's in here. I'm not trying to poison you. Let me get you a new glass." He snapped his fingers and a decanter popped up beside him. The powder-flecked wine vanished and he poured her a new glass.

Belle felt like a fool. But who knew the wig would drip powder like ashes from a coal hod? She quickly excused herself and asked where the bathroom was.

Just then Clary announced, "Papa, I have to go potty. I'll show her." She scrambled down from her chair on Rumple's other side and grabbed Belle's hand. "How come your hair's white? Are you old? Or did you get a'scared by a ghost? Jack says they can scare the spit right outta you."

"Clarissa!" Rumplestiltskin groaned. He put his face in his hands. Out of the mouths of babes! "Forgive her, Belle, she's—"

"A curious little girl, I know," Belle smiled at the tot and said, "Sweetie, this isn't my real hair, it's a wig . . ."

"Did your hair fall out? Like Granny Morris? She said that's what happens when you get old. Her teeth fell out too. Do you have all your teeth? One of mine's loose, wanna see?"

Rumple predicted Belle was going to have a _very_ interesting conversation by the time they reached the bathroom, which was down the hall from the kitchen.

The older Gold children and some of the Avonlea brood as well snickered and giggled, but Rumple's glare silenced all of them . . . for the time being.

Until Clary returned with Belle, sans the wig, and climbed up on Rumple's lap and announced, "See, Papa, she's not old, it was just a costume!"

Poor Tom was convulsed with laughter and had to crawl over to Finn's sleeve before he fell off the table.

"Clary, don't shout. I'm sure they heard you in the Enchanted Forest," Rumple sighed, hoping Belle was not offended by his too-inquisitive daughter.

"I have to admit, she looks a lot better without that wig," Jasmine whispered to Jack.

"But that dress . . . it makes her look like a harem girl!" Jack hissed back.

"Shush, you two! You're behaving like ninnies!" Elaina scolded, not wanting Rafe to think they were making fun of his mother. Then he might not talk to her again.

Jack stuck his tongue out at her. "Just cause you want to make calf eyes at Rafe over there . . ."

"You be quiet, Jack Gold!" snapped Elaina. Then she pinched his ear.

Jack yelped and glared at Elaina.

Rumple set Clary back in her chair and looked down the table. "Just what is going on down there?"

Jack opened his mouth to tell, but Ivy put her hand over it and said quickly, "Nothing, sir."

"Good. Let's keep it that way. More wine, Belle?"

"Good one, Papa! Get her drunk," Finn sniggered, and was immediately kicked under the table by Ivy.

"Knock it off! You're behaving like hoodlums!" Ivy glanced about for help. Bae usually helped her maintain order with her rowdy siblings but he was sitting across from Serenity and the two just kept looking at each other as if they were the only people in the room. Ivy groaned silently. _Bae, why'd you have to go and fall in love? Good gods!_ She was surprised her father hadn't noticed, then again he was distracted by another pair of blue eyes.

Jack glared at her. "What'd you do that for?"

"Because you're embarrassing," Ivy snapped. "I'm going to pretend I'm not related to you if you keep this up."

After determining everyone was full from the first course, Ivy had the plates and platters float themselves back into the kitchen. Jasmine quit chattering with Nick and Nora long enough to help her serve the salad course.

"Did you know Nora told me that her and Nick got lost in the woods and trapped in a gingerbread house with a witch that eats children?" Jasmine said as she carried in the bowls.

"How'd they escape?"

"They shoved the witch in the oven."

Ivy chuckled. "Sounds like something I'd do. Bet she was a crispy critter."

Jasmine laughed and soon the salad was presented. Belle remarked at how beautifully presented the courses were, and Ivy blushed. Finally, _someone_ appreciated her artistry.

Next came the soup course, and if Ivy thought her brothers had problems, it was nothing compared to when Peter and Phillip began to blow bubbles in their soup with straws from their pockets.

Jack nearly followed, but Bae reached out and caught his ear. "Don't you dare!"

Jack started coughing and Bae smacked him on the back.

Under cover of that little drama, Rennie cuffed both her brothers upside the head and snapped, "You're acting like barbarians! Do it again and you can eat plain oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow."

_That_ stopped them for awhile, since plain oatmeal was disgusting and tasted like paste.

Belle looked down the table and was relieved to see that all of her children were behaving.

"This soup is delicious. Might I have the recipe?"

"You'll need to ask Ivy for that. She's my kitchen witch," Rumplestiltskin said.

"Do you mean that she can cook or she uses magic to do so?"

"Both. But she uses her magic to help her prepare and clean, and only sometimes to improve a dish for flavor."

"Do all your children have magic?"

"No. Only a few. Ivy, Finn, and Jasmine. Clary's too little for me to tell yet. Speaking of magic, did you know that some of yours have it too?"

"M-Mine?" Belle stammered.

"Yes. The little red-haired girl—Ariel, is it? She has quite a bit, and so does the one next to her . . . Kristen, I believe you called her?"

"Oh! Well, Ariel's a mermaid, so she's not human and I guess that makes sense," Belle said. "She can still mesmerize with her voice. As for Kristen . . . she came from circus folk, and they all have a bit of it, I guess. Who else?"

"The little willo-wisp. What's her name? Jane?"

"June. She was found abandoned at age five, her grandmother had died and she was burning matches to keep warm. Almost burnt down the hut, but it was cold. What sort of power does she have?"

"Something to do with light and heat," Rumple murmured. "I'd know more, but I'd have to examine her thoroughly. As well as Goldilocks over there."

"I . . . I don't know. I never thought they had magic . . . except for Ariel . . ."

"You wouldn't have known. Only another sorcerer would. Like calls to like, dearie," He explained. "But they really ought to be trained. Uncontrolled magic is dangerous, Belle. Even when you don't mean it to be."

"What are you saying?"

"That you should let me teach them. I won't hurt them. I'm not some monster that eats children."

"Yes, I know that. It's just . . . I need some time to think this over," Belle told him.

"Understandable. Just let me know when you would like them to start, I have sessions almost everyday with my own three."

The main course came out, and everyone liked it, even picky Clary. Ivy was so happy she almost danced a jig right there.

It was at dessert when trouble loomed its head again.

Ivy cut the cake while Jasmine poured the coffee and put out the fruit.

As Belle slowly stirred her coffee, which was with some sugar and some cream she felt something in her eye. She blinked rapidly and then swiped at her face with one of the cloth napkins.

Plop!

Something fell into her coffee.

She stared down at it in horror.

It was her false eyelash.

_Oh, no! Now what? I need to . . . to put it back on._ She pretended to stir her coffee again and scooped out the floating eyelash and hid it in her napkin.

"Something wrong, dearie?" asked Rumplestiltskin.

"N-No. I just . . . got something in my eye," Belle said, praying he didn't notice her one eye was missing its eyelash. "I'll . . . be right back." She got up and walked towards the bathroom, nearly running into a pillar because she was looking at the ground and not where she was going.

Finally she made it to the bathroom. She examined her face in the small mirror there, and now was stuck trying to get the eyelash back on. She wiped it several times on a rough washcloth and tried to stick it back on, but it refused to go back.

"Damn it, I need some glue!" she whispered. But she had none with her, having left the glue pot on her dresser.

She began looking through the tiny shelf above the toilet, hoping to find something. But she found only standard medical home remedies in jars . . . until she caught sight of a jar in the back. It was labeled _Quick Fix_ and said it was good for fixing various things, like cracks in wood and so forth.

Desperate, Belle dunked the eyelash in the solution and then stuck it on her eye. It worked . . . until she tried to open her eye . . . and found it was glued shut.

_Oh my good gods! How can I open my eye? How long until this stuff wears off? Forever? What if it never does? I'll be the one eyed Healer._

She was such a dunce! She should have just left off the eyelash. Now she was stuck with a closed eye. She could only imagine what Rumplestiltskin would think of her now—the Healer who glued her own eye shut.

She would have to go home immediately. Flushing, she hurried out of the bathroom.

But when she got back to the table, she saw that her children were still eating and she didn't want to drag them away. Miserable, she tried not to squint as she sat back down. And she kept blinking her other eye.

Blink! Blink! Blink!

Rumplestiltskin frowned. Belle's eye was twitching, almost like she had a palsy. "Did you get it out?"

"Get what out?"

"Whatever got in your eye."

"Umm . . . it sort of . . . got stuck," Belle muttered, her face turning the same shade as her dress.

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "Stuck? May I see?"

"No! It's . . . I'm fine! See?" Belle looked up at him, her right eye still glued shut and her left one blinking like crazy.

He gently took her chin in his hand.

Belle longed to sink into the ground.

"I think I see the problem."

_I do too. I'm an idiot._

He ran a finger along the edge of her eye, his nail gently separating the glue from her skin. "There! I think you might want to soak it with some chamomile water. It looks a little red."

"Th-thanks! I'll do that." Belle no longer had an appetite for dessert. She just wanted to get home and hide under the bed. What must he think of her now, an idiot who glued her own eye shut? "Come, children. It's getting late and you have to get up early for chores tomorrow."

There were predictable groans at that statement, but finally they were all ready to leave. Belle felt like she couldn't get out of the castle fast enough. Surely she'd never be invited back here again.

"Contact me when you're ready to . . . discuss the other business we mentioned," Rumple said.

"Of course! Goodbye, and thank you for dinner," Belle said with a weak smile. Then she bolted down the path, only realizing when she got out on the road that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

_Oh, hells! They can keep them! _She limped all the way back home, thankful for the cover of darkness. So much for first impressions. He was probably glad to get rid of her.

Back at the castle, Rumple barred the door and as he did so, noticed the pair of red high heels standing in a corner. _Belle's shoes. _He thought about going out and catching up to her and giving her them. Or he could send them to her magically. Or maybe now he had another excuse to drop by her house.

Though one thing did puzzle him. What on earth had she been doing using his magical sealer on her eye?

**A/N: Hope you liked this part! if anyone knows how to get one of those images for a thumbnail on here, please let me know, because I need a cover for this. Thanks!**


	5. A Visit From Uncle Jefferson

**5**

**A Visit From Uncle Jefferson**

The next morning, Rumplestiltskin was preparing to run over to Shoe House with Belle's red shoes, figuring that was as good an excuse as any to spend time with the healer. Actually, he'd take Rogue, his black mare, because she needed the exercise and he liked to ride her. He'd won the mare in a wager against some brigands some years ago. They'd shown up at the castle gates threatening to burn his house down when he'd surprised them with a simple deal—if he couldn't guess three of their names using six questions, they could burn the castle down, but if he did, they would owe him the black horse their leader was riding and leave and never come back. They'd laughed and swore he'd never be able to do it, but they forgot that he was a wizard with names, and knew just what to ask in order to get the answers he sought. In two hours the brigands found themselves on their way without the black mare, whom they'd stolen from the Witch of the North. Rumple called the mare Rogue, because of the company he'd found her in, and only discovered she was magical when he went to pet her the first time. He soon found she could outrace the wind when he asked her to, and at first he forbid any of his kids to ride her, since he didn't want them breaking their necks. Then, when Bae and Finn grew old enough, he allowed them to ride her, and later Jack too, because the boy was an excellent horseman.

He was just feeding Rogue an apple when the mare tossed her head and whinnied a greeting. Rumple turned, expecting to see one of his sons coming into the barn. Instead he saw a familiar tall figure with dark hair and a brooding dangerous look about him coming in on a large chestnut stallion. "My gods, look what the cat dragged in!" Rumple laughed. "If it isn't my old friend, Jefferson."

Jefferson hopped off his stallion, Deuce, and came over and caught Rumple in a bear hug. "Rumple, you old conjurer! Those kids been keeping you on your toes?"

"Pretty much. What brings you out this way?"

Jefferson shrugged. "I . . . uh . . . haven't seen you in a long time, so I decided to stop by."

"Uh huh. And I have a bridge for sale without trolls under it. What else?" asked the sorcerer knowingly.

"I wanted to see your kids too."

"I'm sure. And then what?"

"Then I have a . . . proposition for you," Jefferson admitted. "I can't put anything past you, can I? You're like a damn bloodhound!"

"You know you can't lie to me, Jeff. I always know. Thought you'd have learned that by now," Rumplestiltskin said, wagging a finger at him.

"It was worth a shot," grinned Jefferson. "How _do_ you know, anyway?"

"Trade secret, dearie."

"Then you won't tell me?"

"No."

"What if I make a deal with you?"

"Not even then," Rumple sighed, as if it pained him. "Come, put Deuce away and let's go inside. I have some plum wine in the cellar, and Ivy just made some pumpkin bread."

"With dates and walnuts?" Jefferson looked ready to salivate.

"Of course." The sorcerer started towards the back door. The trip to Shoe House would have to wait for another day, more's the pity. But Jefferson was his best friend, and Rumple hadn't seen him in almost a year. Not since Jefferson had gotten a new job.

Rumple went into the castle, where he found Ivy and Elaina just sitting down to have a snack, along with Tom, Bae, and Finn. They were all having some tea with a piece of pumpkin bread. "Mmm . . . that smells divine, Ivy dearie." He could smell the cinnamon and nutmeg the minute he walked in the door. "And you'll never guess who stopped by."

"Who?" asked Elaina, a piece of pumpkin bread halfway to her mouth.

"A traveling peddler," Finn suggested.

"An old witch," guessed Tom.

"A vagabond," Bae offered.

"Wrong. Ivy, care to take a stab at it?"

His daughter thought for a few moments then asked, "Is it someone we know?"

"Yes."

"Belle, to get her shoes back."

"No. But that was a good guess."

"Hello, kids! Miss me?" Jefferson asked, popping into the kitchen through the back door.

"Uncle Jefferson!" they chorused.

Jefferson took off his black hat and handed it to Rumplestiltskin. "Keep this for me, won't you?" He knew better than to leave it lying around where curious little hands could get into mischief with it.

Rumple took it and went to lock it in his lab.

Jefferson looked at the boys, Elaina, and Ivy and exclaimed, "Great gods, Rum, what have you been feeding them? They're huge!"

"I grew a quarter of an inch!" Tom said proudly, standing up beside his nutshell mug of tea so Jefferson could see him better.

"You're a giant, Tom," Jefferson grinned.

"Compared to the ants," Finn chuckled.

"Shut up, Finn! Before I let the carpenter ants eat your flute," Tom threatened.

"You do and I'll send you on a one way trip to the moon."

"Boys, behave! Before I send both of you out to clean the barn," Rumple scolded, coming back into the kitchen.

"Rum, you sound like my grandmother!" Jefferson sniggered. He made his voice go high like an old woman's. "You kids are going to drive me to drink, I swear it!"

"If we quarreled like these two here, I don't blame her for taking a nip or two of brandy," the sorcerer said. They had grown up together in the same village.

"Wait, you drove an old woman crazy, Papa?" Bae asked, smirking. "Tell us more, Uncle Jeff. Exactly what did you do?"

"Jefferson!" warned Rumple. "Not another word. They don't need any encouragement. So keep your mouth shut, old pal, before you find yourself sleeping in the barn with only bread and water to eat."

"Aww, but Papa . . .!" Finn groaned.

"We really wanted to hear it!" Elaina pouted.

"Yeah, you never tell us anything about what you and Uncle Jefferson did as kids,' Bae lamented.

Ivy said nothing, thinking she might be able to wheedle the story out of Jefferson later when they were alone.

"Sorry, boys. Your father's the lord and master here," Jefferson said ruefully. "Maybe next time. But look at you! Bae, you're almost as tall as me now. What's Ivy been feeding you, Growth Serum?" He clapped Bae on the shoulder.

"I've learned some new sword forms while you've been gone," Bae informed him.

"Good, I'll have to spar with you tomorrow," Jefferson said. He had been Bae's first swordmaster. "Finn, learn to play that flute yet?" It was an old joke between them.

"Depends on the song. I can play something for you after dinner," Finn said. He was already planning a concert in his head.

Just then Jasmine, Clary, and Jack walked in.

"Look, it's Uncle Jefferson!" Jasmine cried. She ran to hug him.

"Unca Jeff! Unca Jeff! Hug me! Hug me!" Clary squealed and ran to climb up his leg.

"Jumping Juggernauts, Rum! Look at the bevy of beauties you have here!" Jefferson spun Jasmine around, then grabbed Clary and threw her up in the air. "All of your girls are going to drive the boys insane when your papa finally allows one to date you."

"Which won't be till they're seventeen," Rumple interjected.

Clary was giggling like a loon as Jefferson caught her and tossed her skyward again.

"Clary-belle, where have you been all my life?" Jefferson asked.

"Right here!" the little girl said, then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "When I'm bigger, I'm gonna marry you!"

"What? You're going to make me wait _that_ long?" Jefferson asked in mock dismay. "I'll be so old, I'll have to borrow your papa's cane."

Rumple glared at him. "Good one, Jeff."

"Sorry, old pal. Maybe I'll borrow someone else's."

"No, I'll just break both your kneecaps so you have an excuse to use it," Rumplestiltskin said wickedly.

Jefferson pretended mock horror and Clary cried, "No, Papa! You can't breaka his leg! He's gotta come to the tea party!"

"Yeah, you see that? I have to go to the tea party. You tell him, Clary!" Jefferson snickered.

"Good. You play with Uncle Jeff so I don't have to," Rumple sounded satisfied.

"Nuh-uh. You gotta come too, Papa. _Both_ of you," the little girl said determinedly.

"But you don't need me," Rumple protested.

"Do too! You, an' Unca Jeff, an' Jasmine, an' Jack!"

"_Me_?" Jack was horrified. "No way! I don't play with dolls! I'll hang myself first!"

"Let's make a deal then," Clary looked at her brother seriously.

Jefferson roared with laughter. "She's a chip off the old block, Rum."

"What kind of deal?" Jack asked warily.

"You come to my party an' . . . I'll let you eat all the cake you want," the little moppet declared.

"For real? And I don't have to share any with Flopsy, Mopsy, and whatever the other stupid doll is named?" Jack bargained.

"Chuckles," Clary supplied. "And one cup of tea."

Jack considered. He was always starving lately. "All right. Deal. Shake on it, sister." He held out his hand and they shook. Then he glared at his brothers, who were laughing into their hands. "And the first one of you that tells anybody is dead meat!"

"What, you're going to beat me up?" Bae snorted.

"No, but I can beat up Finn," Jack said gamely.

"In your dreams, prissy boy," Finn sneered.

"Watch me!" Jack clenched a fist.

"Do I hear two boys volunteering to scrub down the chicken coop?" Rumple inquired silkily.

"No, sir!" they cried and Jack lowered his fist.

"When is this tea party, Clary-belle?" asked Jefferson.

"In the afternoon! Everybody knows that!" the little girl stated.

"Boy, does she know how to make a guy feel stupid," Jefferson sighed.

"You'll need to get smarter before you marry her, old friend!" her father chortled.

"Clary! You can't marry Uncle Jeff!" Jack gasped.

"Why?"

"Because he's like an old geezer compared to you."

"Hey! This old geezer can arm wrestle you into next week!" Jefferson pretended to be insulted.

Jack grinned. "Wanna bet?"

"After lunch," Jefferson said. "I need to keep up my strength. I've been living off jerky and water this past week and dreaming of Ivy's roasts and puddings."

"What do we have to eat, Ivy?" Jack asked.

"Go look in the pantry. What do I look like, your maid?"

"If you put on a white cap, yeah," Jack said impudently.

Ivy flicked him on the backside with her dishcloth. "Brat!"

"Oww!" Jack yelped, then turned to Rumplestiltskin. "Papa, she hit me."

"You deserved it. Now go and see what we have for lunch, before Uncle Jeff wastes away."

"No fair! You always take _her_ side!" Jack grumbled as he stomped off to the pantry.

"You see what I have to put up with?" Rumplestiltskin said. "Don't be in a hurry to have kids, Jefferson."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

After lunch, which was cold ham and turkey sandwiches with cheese and mustard, as well as carrot sticks, and some chickpea salad, Jefferson obligingly arm-wrestled with Jack. Jack won, though Finn claimed Jefferson let him win.

Before a fight could start, Rumplestiltskin separated them, sending Jack to weed the garden and Finn to sweep the front walk. Then he pulled Jefferson into his study and locked the door.

"Now, old friend, are you going to tell me about this proposition, or do I have to magically compel you?" Rumple went and sat on the leather swivel chair behind his desk and put his feet up.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Be my guest," he gestured to an easy chair.

Jefferson sat down and said, "You know, Rum, you're not getting any younger and I was thinking . . ."

"Is this the part where you tell me you're dying of an incurable disease and you've left me everything in your will?"

Jefferson snorted. "Everything being the clothes on my back, fifty gold pieces, and Deuce. Oh, and my hat. No, sorry. Like I was saying, those kids of yours could really use a mother. And the castle needs a woman's touch. It always has."

"Are you suggesting I ought to marry again?"

"Look, buddy, Milah was a huge mistake. I told you that, if you'll remember."

"You told me you wanted to kiss her. That's not the same as saying don't marry her," Rumple objected.

"Hey, how was I going to tell my best friend that the girl he was in love with was a tramp?"

"You said it."

"You wouldn't have believed me. You thought Milah hung the moon."

"True. Jefferson, I've already met a woman—"

"Here? What is she, some farmer's daughter? The tinker's wife?" Jefferson waved his hand dismissively. "Pal, I have the perfect lady for you."

"There is no such thing. Though Belle might come close."

"Forget her. Listen to me. You need a woman who can take charge, right? Who can get all your little brats to mind their manners and stuff."

"They mind me pretty well, Jeff."

"Rum, they're running all over you. You need a wife, especially with the girls getting older. Are you going to tell Clary about the birds and the bees?"

"I . . . I figured Ivy could do it. She learned from a book," Rumple said, blushing.

"You need a wife, pal. And I have just the woman for you. She's beautiful—long black hair, creamy skin, big dark eyes, lips like a rose . . ."

"Who is she? Snow White? She's a little young, Jeff. She's Bae's age."

"No. She's older, she knows how to rule, _and_—here's the big plus—she has magic, so she won't be afraid of yours."

"Who is this paragon?"

"Snow's stepmother. My boss."

Rumplestiltskin almost choked. "You want me to date _Regina_? The Queen of the Enchanted Forest? Are you mad?"

"Look, Rum, I know all the rumors," Jefferson began. "I know she sounds like the nastiest bitch in the world, but remember all the rumors about you too?"

Rumple scowled. "Jeff, that's different. I was under a curse and it's broken. Regina's not. Plus, her husband just died not six months ago."

"So it's a little early. You're both widowers or whatever you call it with kids. You have magic, you have a lot in common."

"I don't know . . . does Regina even like kids?"

"She gets along all right with Snow, as far as I know. Look, just try it. A few dates, what's the big deal?"

"Did she put you up to this, Jeff?"

"No! I just thought . . . she's lonely in her castle and you're alone in yours, so . . ."

"I'm hardly alone. Nor am I desperate. I want a woman who loves me and loves my children."

"I know, and I think Regina is good for you. She's smart, she's been around, she's not some innocent little princess fresh out of the schoolroom who'll bore you to tears and faint the first time you cast a spell."

"I won't have another Milah."

"Regina's not like that. She was faithful to her husband."

"As far as you know."

"You think I wouldn't know about something like that? I'm her advisor. People talk."

"I've heard she's power-hungry."

"And I've heard _you_ steal firstborn children out of the cradle. Come on, Rum! It's just a date. If you don't suit, you can just break it off and come back to the castle. That's all."

"Fine. One date. Maybe two. And if it doesn't work, no hard feelings. You make sure she knows that, Jefferson."

"Relax, buddy. I'll take care of all of it. I'll tell her all about you and you can go on a date this Friday. Who knows, you might decide to marry her."

"We'll see. But she has to like my children. No wicked stepmothers!"

"What's not to like? They're great kids. _I_ love them and I usually don't like kids, Rum!" Jefferson laughed.

"I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. For now," Rumplestiltskin agreed. He would agree to one date. Like Jefferson said, they were adults and if they didn't suit, it wasn't the end of the world. And Regina wasn't his only prospect. There was still Belle . . . even though she came with ten children.

"You won't regret it," Jefferson said. "Now let's go and play tea party with Clary. After all, we did promise."

Rumple shook his head. "She's got you wrapped around her finger, all right. Heaven help you when you finally marry and have one of your own, Jeff."

"She won't want for anything, Rum. Including someone to play with."

"Anymore than mine do."

"Except for a mother," Jefferson reminded. "I still think your best bet's Regina."

"We'll see," was all Rumple said. Then he followed Jefferson out, wishing he'd never agreed to this date. Then again, it was only one date, not a promise of marriage. Surely there was no harm in it.

**A/N: And . . . this is where things start to get dicey.**


	6. Double Date

**6**

**Double Date**

The children had fun playing with Jefferson for the rest of the week, since he proved himself adaptable at playing tea party with Clary, sparring with Jack and Bae, listening to Finn's concerts, and playing magical chess, checkers, and other boardgames with Tom. The pieces of each game were magicked by Rumple, so Tom just called out where he wanted a piece to move and it moved there. Elaina asked Jefferson for his opinion on several hats she was trying on and Jasmine had a fashion show starring herself, Elaina, Ivy, and Clary.

The only cloud hanging over the castle was the fact that Rumplestiltskin now had to go out on a date with Regina on Friday night. Jefferson left early Thursday, which normally wouldn't be time enough to get to the Enchanted Forest and back, but Rumple lent him Rogue, and so the former mercenary could ride like the wind to Regina's palace and still be back at the Dark Castle to watch the children that Friday night. That was the one proviso Rumple had insisted on. "You want me to go on this date with your boss, Jeff, then you watch my kids for tonight."

"All _eight_ of them?"

"Seven. Bae can take care of himself. He might even help you if he's home."

"Where else would he be?"

"Down in the village. I think he's seeing one of the local girls, but I haven't figured out who it is yet."

"Oh. Then you haven't asked?"

"No. I'm sure he'll tell me when he's ready. If it's serious and not just a passing fancy."

"All right. You've got a deal, old friend. Hope you enjoy your date."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Down in the village, Belle had stopped in at the apothecary, and purchased some more herbs. On her way out she ran into Big Hans, who was also known as a local hero, he had found the goose that laid the golden eggs as a boy, and if not for the goose being stolen by a band of forty thieves, would have been a rich man still to this day. Hans wasn't rolling in gold, but he owned the largest house in the village and still lived off the profits of his sale of the golden goose eggs. He also owned the millinery, where hats were sold, part of the only inn in the village, and the tavern known as the Golden Goose. Hans was fair-haired, blue eyed, and had broad shoulders. He used to be all whipcord and steel, but now he was getting on in years, in his late thirties and he was starting to run to fat. It was because of all those toasts down at the tavern and all the sausage-eating contests he entered during butchering time. Hans held the record for eating forty links of sausage in two hours.

Hans had been smitten by Belle ever since she arrived in Valley Way some five and a half years before. Only Belle had never seemed to notice him, she was too busy taking care of her children and other patients in the village. But now he had caught her alone, he could finally talk to her.

"Hello, Belle," he greeted her, taking off his peacock feathered cap. It matched his blue doublet and green hose and soft half-boots.

Belle halted and looked up at the big fellow. "Hello, Hans. How are you today?"

"I'm fine. Great, actually. I was wondering . . . are you busy on Friday night?"

Belle bit her lip. "Umm . . . no, I don't believe so." She'd been hoping Rumplestiltskin would come by on Saturday for the market, but she wasn't holding her breath. After her fiasco at dinner, she was hardly worthy to dine there again.

Han's face split into a grin. "Great! Then you can come to dinner with me at the Goose! I'd wager you don't get out much, do you?"

"N-No. Rarely."

"Then how about I pick you up at six? We can eat, have a few drinks, there's even some musicians playing. It'll be fun!"

Belle hesitated. Then she thought of how she planned to darn socks and make sachets of healing herbs that Friday night. Boring! Hans seemed a harmless enough fellow, and he wasn't married. "All right. I'll . . . have Rennie watch the children for me."

"Wonderful! See you on Friday!" Hans said, and went off, whistling gaily.

Belle continued on home, wondering if she'd done the right thing. Or should she have waited for Rumplestiltskin? But what if he never came?

When she got home and started arranging her herbs in the stillroom, she called Rennie in to tell her about the date.

"You're going out with Big Hans?" Rennie gasped. "But why? I thought you liked Rumplestiltskin, Mom."

"Rennie, I don't think Rum and I would work . . . especially not after I made such an ass out of myself that night at the castle."

"Mom, so you lost an eyelash in your coffee. It's not the end of the world."

"Rennie, I _glued_ my eye shut! Do you know how stupid I felt?"

"Mom, I don't think he noticed."

"Of course he did! That man notices everything. It's better if I just . . . forget him. I mean, between his eight and my ten children, we'd have a village! That's crazy."

"But Mom! Big Hans? He might be a bigshot hero, but he's denser than a post! I think the goose was smarter than he was!"

"It's only one date, honey. If it doesn't work, then that's fine."

Rennie gulped. "Mom, he's been eyeing you up for ages! I think he wants more than just a date, gods help him."

"Well, one date is all I agreed to. Now stop worrying, Ren. Just make sure that the little ones are in bed by nine and leave the lamp on for me."

Rennie sighed. "Okay, Mom. It's your life. But I think you can do much better. At least Rumplestiltskin could read. I don't even think Hans knows the alphabet!"

"Serenity, don't be unkind. It's not his fault he didn't go to school."

"I'm not being unkind, just stating a fact," her daughter said. "I'm going to go weed the vegetable garden."

She hurried out the back door, feeling slightly ill at the thought of her intelligent gentle mother dating that buffoon who bragged all the time of his capturing the golden goose and drank too many toasts at the tavern—free of charge since he owned it.

_I have to do something about this! I don't want a stepfather who can't even add up a column of numbers or who thinks the first thing he has to do is marry me off to the highest bidder!_ Rennie thought angrily. She pulled out a few weeds, but her mind was not on her task.

Finally, she tossed the weeds into the compost heap and went walking along the stream, hoping the cool water would ease her mind.

She had walked maybe fifteen feet when she heard a familiar tune being whistled. Grinning, she whistled back. Then she stopped and waited beside the path.

Soon Bae emerged from the tangle of gorse that ran along part of the stream bed, his dark hair tousled, but his eyes were glowing. "Rennie! I was hoping you'd be here. But I wasn't sure."

She came and hugged him. "Bae, I missed you! And I need your help. It's my mother."

"What happened? Did she fall and hurt herself? Is she sick?" Bae asked, concerned.

"No, she's accepted a date with Big Hans! It's horrible!"

Bae nodded. "That is pretty bad. Almost as bad as Papa agreeing to date Regina."

"_Regina_! The Wicked Queen of the Enchanted Forest?"

"Uh huh. Uncle Jeff convinced him to do it. I think it's the worst mistake he's ever made, but I'm not even supposed to know about it. I wheedled it out of Uncle Jeff before he left this morning."

Rennie wrung her hands. "Bae, this is terrible! We can't let them do this."

"What can we do, Rennie? They're both adults, and it's not like we can lock them in their rooms or something."

"What did you think of my mom when she came to dinner at the castle?"

"I thought she was lovely, Ren. And I thought Papa thought so too. He doesn't usually talk much to women. He's kind of . . . shy since my mother ran off with that bloody pirate Hook. It's like he blames himself for her leaving. And most women are too afraid of him to say much."

"Mom wasn't."

"I know. That's what I liked about her. I thought . . . maybe they might start going out more. If they got together . . ."

"Then _we_ could be too!" Rennie finished. "But not if they're dating Hagar the Horrible and the Wicked Queen. We have to get them to see each other again."

"How?"

"Well, Mom is supposed to go to the Goose with Hans Friday night. Where's your father taking Regina?"

"Probably there. Where else can they eat except over there? It's the only eatery in town unless they stay at the castle."

"No! They have to go to the Goose."

"I'll suggest it to Papa. But then what?"

"Then maybe your dad could notice my mom and . . . realize that he's with someone totally unsuited and . . ."

" . . . ask your mom out," Bae finished. "Rennie, that's an awesome idea. I just hope it works."

"Me too. I don't want the Golden Imbecile for my stepdad."

"And I don't want the Wicked Queen for my stepmother." Bae put an arm around her waist. "Let's keep our fingers crossed. With luck, they'll hate their dates and go back to meeting each other at the market. But for now, let's enjoy the evening. Look at that sunset!"

"It's gorgeous."

"Not as beautiful as you," Bae murmured, then he kissed her.

"You say the sweetest things," she giggled and kissed him back.

"And they're true too," he said, grinning. If these stolen moments were all he could have right now, he would take what he could get. And pray their plan to bring Belle and Rumple together succeeded. Because nothing good could come of the way things were now.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

_Friday night:_

"Why, Rumple! What lovely children you have!" Regina cooed as she looked the eight Gold children up and down coolly. She was wearing a fancy black and white gown with glittering diamonds and a stole of purest ermine about her bare shoulders. The dress was sleeveless, but Regina wore satin gloves that went all the way up her arms. On her head was a small hat made of more ermine, it set off her glistening black hair to perfection. She wore diamond drops in her ears and high heeled boots on her feet.

Elaina made soft noises of envy at her ensemble until Ivy elbowed her in the ribs.

"Quit making a spectacle of yourself, Elaina!" she hissed. "Sure, she may dress like the Queen of Sheba, but it's inside that counts! And she's nothing more than a viper in mouseskin."

"How can you tell, Ivy?" Jasmine whispered.

"Look at her eyes. They're cold . . . cold as winter's heart."

"She's like an ice sculpture," Finn whispered as Regina looked about the foyer, her beautiful lips pursed like she'd been sucking lemons. "Pretty to look at but she'll freeze your bones if you touch her."

"Ugh! Who'd want to?" Tom shuddered from his place on Jack's shoulder.

"I don't. I wanna hide under the bed," Clary whimpered, clutching Jasmine for dear life.

They had all been correctly polite to Regina when their father introduced her to them, as they had been taught. Regina had smiled and said she was pleased to meet them, but the children weren't fools. They could tell by the way she shook their hands and sniffed ever so slightly that she found them repulsive. Or something like that.

Bae's lip curled as Regina cozied up to Rumplestiltskin. She reminded him of a weasel, curling round her prey before biting out its throat. _Get rid of her, Papa. Before she ruins all of our lives._

"Come on, kids. Let's go into the conservatory," Jefferson beckoned to them.

"Good night, Papa. Have a good time!" Bae called, then made a face.

Clary ran over to where Rumple stood with Regina, dressed in a green and brown ensemble and hugged him about the knees. "Will you be back to tuck me in, Papa?"

"No, lovely girl. I'll be back too late and you'll be asleep," Rumple said, resting his hand fondly on Clary's curls. He kissed her forehead."But Uncle Jeff will tuck you in and read you a story."

"I want you to!" Clary sniffled, woebegone.

"Behave, child, and do as your father bids you," Regina glared down at Clary, twitching a fold of her gown out of the way.

"Leave her alone!" Bae snapped, coming forward and picking up Clary in his arms. "She's just a little girl who's not used to her father being away from home at night."

"She needs to learn discipline," Regina declared.

"Not from you," Bae growled. "Come, Clary. Papa will be back before you know it and in the meantime I'll tell you a story."

As they exited the hall, Regina whirled on Rumplestiltskin and snapped, "That son of yours has an insolent tongue. How _could _you let him speak to me like that?"

Rumple frowned. "Regina, you may be a queen, but here you are a guest in my home. Bae was right. Clary isn't used to me being away from home. Surely you can understand that, as you have a daughter of your own."

"My stepdaughter would never behave so!"

"Your stepdaughter isn't four years old either," Rumple said softly, with a hint of a growl.

Suddenly Regina seemed to realize that she'd overstepped, for she said quickly, "Forgive me, Rumple. It's been a long time since I've had to deal with small children. Snow's seventeen, so I'm a little . . . rusty. And a bit . . . impatient." She gestured about the hall with one gloved hand. "Your castle is lovely, by the way. Even if it does need a bit more . . .color and texture. Like a few tapestries here and there and maybe some mirrors. A carpet or two would soften things."

"We've only just met, dearie, and already you want to redecorate my castle?"

"It's just a suggestion, Rumple," Regina soothed. "It's clear this place needs a woman's touch."

"Maybe. Come, we should take the carriage down to the village."

"Of course. Though I hope this place is worth the wait." She set her hand on Rumplestiltskin's arm and followed him through the set of doors. If all went well, she would join her kingdom with his castle and reap the power of the Dark One. Once she was married to him, she would see to it that those beastly children were sent far away . . . to a school where manners could be beaten into their insolent hides. Clearly, the sorcerer needed advice on how to discipline and raise children.

Rumple handed Regina into the carriage, which she had come in all the way from the Enchanted Forest. Normally he would have walked or ridden down to Valley Way, but Regina clearly didn't agree with those traveling methods. She was accustomed to traveling in style, it seemed.

The carriage bumped over the road and Regina said, "Don't you ever get bored up there in the castle with all those kids and no adults to talk to?"

"Sometimes. But I read and I brew a lot and the children keep me busy. Bae and Ivy aren't exactly toddlers anymore, so they can have discussions with me."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Kids! They want something of you every minute of the day. I would guess you're glad to get out for once, even if it is only to go down to the local tavern and have a few. At least there are adults down here."

"Adults getting drunk, dearie. Hardly stimulating conversationalists," Rumple said wryly. "But I don't mind the evening out. As long as I have someone to watch the little ones."

"Yes. Where I come from, they're usually sent away. To get an education. The boys are sent to military school and the girls to finishing school." Her sniff said that was the best place for them.

"Is that the way you think children ought to be raised? By strangers instead of their parents? I disagree. _I'm_ their father, it's my responsibility to see them grown, I'm not going to ship them off to some school whose idea of fun is to run ten miles with a pack of rocks or walk about with a book on your head. Who have cold strangers to discipline them without love, while I'm off playing around at some fancy banquet and counting my money and living the high life. No thank you!"

"Then you want your children to be ill-mannered brats with no breeding?"

His eyes narrowed. "My children aren't any of those things, Regina. Some of them have better pedigrees than I do, as if that matters any. But you know one thing I've learned while raising these orphans? It doesn't matter a tinker's damn whether you lived in a palace or farmer's mud hut before you were orphaned, all of them feel the same pain, abandonment, and loss. And all they want is a place to belong and someone who'll love them. In the end, Your Majesty, it's all most of us want." _Except for those too power-hungry to listen to their hearts. Though I think, madam, that you lost yours long ago. And you don't even want it back. Oh, Jefferson, I'm going to strangle you! The night is young, and I can't wait for it to be over._

"Do you believe in true love then?"

"Yes."

She looked startled. "But love didn't give you power. You took that."

"I was born with the magic. I didn't spontaneously get it from the Dark One. It awakened when I assumed his role, that's all. You can't give a non-magical person that power. Don't you know that?"

"But the Dark One's curse—"

"Is a curse that gives you the power of fear and a certain ruthlessness, but it _can't_ give you magic. I had it already. Trust me on that. All it did was amplify and awaken it."

"How marvelous it must be, to have all that power at your fingertips," Regina's eyes were glowing. "The power to crush anyone who gets in your way like that!" she snapped her fingers.

Rumple winced, recalling the beginning days of his rise, and how he had abused the power he'd been given, using it to get revenge on those who had mocked and scorned him, on anyone who tormented Bae and Ivy. The feeling had been a rush at first, but after it died he had felt hollow. And his children began to fear him.

"Power's overrated, dearie. There's always someone who has more." _Or wants more . . . like you. I know your sort, and little black widow, I'm not going to let you bite off MY head._

"I haven't heard of anyone as powerful as the Dark One ever," she purred, resting her hand on his arm. Had he forgotten the ways of power? Well, she would remind him. Together they could rule the world, the Emperor and Emperess on their ivory thrones. With him by her side, she could do it. If only she could get him to be rid of the children. They were dragging him down. Her hand stroked his arm, moving up and down in a gliding motion. "You fascinate me, Rumple. Your power . . . it draws me in like a whirlpool . . . I am swept away." Activating just a small bit of her own power, Regina pulled his head around and kissed him. A bit of lust always helped reluctant partners along.

Rumple felt the sudden jolt of magic before he was quite aware of it. The tide of lust that followed almost caught him off guard. But then he marshaled his defenses and fought back. No one would make him a slave to desire, he was no one's puppet. Regina was very very good, almost a master in certain areas, but Rumple had the Dark One's knowledge, skill, and an indomitable will. He grabbed her and kissed her back, just briefly to deceive her, while he used his own magic to turn the curse, bouncing it off him and into the forest, where it hit a rabbit hopping.

_Some rabbit mama will be very happy tonight, _ he thought wickedly as he went through a few multiplication tables in his head to diffuse any lingering feelings. Then he pulled the clinging Regina off him and sat her on the seat before him. "I think we're getting a bit carried away, dearie, don't you? Besides, we're here and we wouldn't want to shock anyone, would we?"

As they disembarked from the carriage, Rumple noticed Regina bore a slight pout upon her face. _Now, now, dearie, you shouldn't make faces like that, it'll freeze that way, _then he gave her his arm and they walked into The Golden Goose. Or rather, he walked, _she_ sailed into the room, making a grand entrance.

Some of the patrons noticed and muttered a few things about the hoity-toity lady but most were too drunk or too involved to notice.

Regina's frown deepened. Clearly she was used to being the center of attention.

Rumplestiltskin found himself hard pressed not to snicker. _Dearie, you may be Queen of all you survey in the Enchanted Forest, but here you're just another rich lady out slumming. And with a disreputable sorcerer too. _Well, his reputation may have gone up a few notches since he'd turned John into a donkey, he allowed. "This way. I have a table reserved right over here in the corner."

"The corner? What are we, outcasts?"

"No, but I hate people staring," Rumple answered. Then he sat down and Mike, the barkeep, came hurrying over. One good thing at the Goose was the prompt service. "Mike, give me your rack of lamb platter for two and two of your best honey ale."

"Coming right up, Master Gold, milady," he tipped his cap to Regina. "Archie will be your server," he indicated the fourteen-year-old who bused tables and swept up around the place.

Archie scurried off to get drinks while Regina looked around, nearly turning up her nose at the provincial atmosphere.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle found Big Hans to be interested in only one thing on the walk over to the tavern. Himself. She caught herself in the middle of a yawn as he began to describe, for the fiftieth time, how he had found the golden goose and liberated her from a giant's house. The first time it was interesting, even the third time was bearable, but after listening to him drone on about his cornfields (weren't they beautiful), and his businesses (the Golden Goose was still the best eatery in the village) and how quick and clever he had to be to outwit the giant and make off with the goose in a sack, Belle was ready to plead a headache and go straight home.

She tried to change the conversation several times only to discover that he knew next to nothing about books (he couldn't read, as Rennie had said), or plants, another hobby of hers, and when she suggested using fertilizer to improve the soil for his crops, he looked at her as if she had two heads. Or maybe she was speaking a foreign language.

"Thought all you women was interested in was having babies and such. It's a man's job to plow the fields. Along with a few other things!" he guffawed.

Well versed in the crude humor the villagers sometimes engaged in, Belle sighed and let it pass. At least Hans wasn't pawing her or trying to rip her dress off. "I'm interested in a lot of things, Hans. What do you think about raising children?"

"Plan to have some my own someday. 'Course, with your ten and however many else you pop out, we'll have plenty to work around the farm."

"I see." Belle went silent, thinking, _is that all you think my kids are good for? Cheap labor?_ "Did you ever read the Brer Rabbit stories, Hans? You know I always thought it very clever of Brer Rabbit to—"

"Clever! Why, Missus Belle, I can tell you of a time I was clever indeed. When I snuck up on that giant's house I was plumb sure I was gonna get my noggin bashed in . . ."

Belle groaned. Now he was off again. She almost wished the giant had bashed his brains out. Or hers, for ever agreeing to this date in the first place. But she was hungry and hopefully the food was better than the company. Or at least quicker. Was it possible to faint from boredom?

To drown out Han's recitation again, she began reciting lists of medicinal herbs in her head. She breathed a sigh of relief when they walked through the doors of the tavern.

"Your usual table, sir?" asked a nice looking blond girl wearing a green apron with the tavern logo on it, a sitting goose. She led them to a big table just to the left of where the stage was. The band was playing a full set, with a fiddle, drums, guitar and a tin whistle.

For a moment, Belle thought she was going to go deaf. Then again, maybe it was a blessing in disguise, because then she couldn't hear Hans talk.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Master Gold? But that's not your name," Regina said as soon as Mike was out of earshot.

"It's one of my names, Regina. They call me that around here. Because I spin straw into gold. I'm known as the Gold Sorcerer. So—Master Gold."

"How very . . . bucolic. I much prefer the Dark One. The Dark One is a legend."

Rumplestiltskin made a face. "Legends die a quick death. They also come with reputations. Especially that one."

"I like men with dark pasts," she said, licking her lips.

_You would,_ he thought, then wondered if he were in danger of her going for his throat, like a lycanthrope. No one ever said Regina was a vampire, but Rumplestilskin thought it might be likely. Especially when she looked at him like he was the main course at a feast. "I'm trying to live mine down."

"Now why would you do that? When people fear you, they obey you. And respect you."

Just then Archie returned with their ales. As he put Regina's down, some sloshed over the edge and a drop fell onto her black dress.

Archie's eyes went wide. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, milady! Let me clean it."

Regina spun on him. "You clumsy little idiot! Get away from me!"

Archie shrank from her, babbling another apology.

Rumple leaned over, took the rag hanging limply from the boy's hand, and pressed it lightly to the spot on Regina's gown and muttered a cleaning charm. "There! Good as new. No harm done, boy. Now get, I think that other table needs you."

Archie tore across the room like he was on fire, while Regina, seething, snarled at Rumple, "How could you let that brat get away with such shoddy service? He ought to be whipped for his carelessness!"

"For spilling a drink by accident? It wasn't on purpose, and look, you're fine now."

"That's not the point."

"What is the point? Terrorizing a child? Regina, it's not like it was back in your palace. Things are a little more . . . relaxed here. We don't get all fired up over every little thing. Relax, have some ale, listen to the music." To illustrate his point, he deliberately slumped back in his chair and raised his glass. "Cheers, dearie!"

Regina also raised hers. To her surprise, one thing in this backwater place was decent. The ale had a full mellow flavor, with just a slight earthy tone and a little bite. "Not bad."

"The food will improve the flavor even more," Rumple promised.

Regina looked around. Normally, she wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. The walls were wooden and so were the beams, but the roof was slate tile. There was a bar, plain and unadorned, where several patrons perched on rickety barstools, or maybe the patrons were rickety from drinking too much ale. Behind the bar was a large stuffed goose, though it wasn't gold, but plain white. The wooden floor was scratched and scuffed and was littered with peanut shells. Peanuts were served on every table, it seemed, and the patrons just threw the shells on the ground.

There was a bowl of peanuts on their table, unshelled. To Regina's shock, Rumplestiltskin took a few, casually cracked them open, ate some and tossed the shells onto the floor.

"Have some. They're quite good."

"You—you all throw the shells on the floor?" she sputtered, pushing away the bowl. "What kind of place is this—a barn?"

Rumple laughed. "Local custom, dearie. The shells absorb the smell of cooking oil and so they keep the place fragrant. And the tavern servers clean them up, see?" He pointed to a girl wielding a broom and sweeping up bunches of shells that had rolled into the middle of the floor. Just not the ones under the table, not yet anyway.

"Barbaric."

He gritted his teeth. He was getting pretty sick of Regina turning up her pert little nose at everyone and everything.

He couldn't wait till the food arrived. Maybe eating would keep her from sneering.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle picked at her grilled chicken and squash, also served with a baked potato. Hungry as she was, she could hardly eat with Hans taking every opportunity she could to stare down her dress. She wanted to ask him point blank if this was the first time he'd ever seen a woman's bosoms, but didn't want to give him any ideas. Really, this was the worst date she'd ever been on. It even beat out her faux pas at the castle.

Hans kept signaling for another pint of ale, and soon five glasses were lined up in front of him. In contrast, Belle had her single glass barely touched.

She didn't dare indulge with a man who was capable of dragging her off into a corner, she needed all her wits about her.

Then the band struck up a lively number and people began to tap their feet and sing along. A few enterprising souls went out in the middle of the floor and began to dance. The band played faster, and people responded with yells and cheers. The singer was clapping his hands and yelling, "Yee-haw, people, keep it movin! Now turn left . . . and then to the right!"

Belle wished she were having as good a time as these others here.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Regina winced as the loud yells from the audience grew louder. These country yokels had about as much breeding as a pair of hunting hounds. She couldn't believe Rumplestiltskin actually talked to these people! They were commoner than dirt, and they smelled like it too. And their coarse yelling and hooting was really beginning to aggravate her.

She ate her meal, picking out the best bits, and though it was tender and the gravy was good, she thought her cook at her palace could have done a better job.

Over at the next table, someone was celebrating a birthday, for those people were singing and screaming, "Yeehaw, we have a birthday here. One year older and still kicking!"

Regina felt like marching over and kicking them right out the door. What was with these people? Didn't they have an ounce of pride between them? She focused on the small cake with chocolate frosting and some candles being lit.

As the older man leaned over to blow out the candles, the cake exploded in his face.

Regina smiled.

But the fools were so drunk they just laughed and started licking the cake off their fingers and didn't even care.

Rumple pushed back his plate, he was quite full, and said, "How was your dinner, Regina?"

She sniffed audibly. "Is _this_ the best you've got in this country bumpkin village, Rumple?"

Rumple looked at her and said, "It's not bad for a local eatery and tavern, dearie. You'll become accustomed to the noise soon enough."

"Who says I want to become accustomed to anything this backwater has to offer? You actually _like_ associating with these-these provincial villagers?"

"Dearie, lest you forget, I _was_ one of these provincial villagers before I became a sorcerer. They're good honest folk who work hard and ask for little in return."

"Humph! And they all have the manners of pigs! Look at those people, covered in chocolate, like pigs at a trough. And _that_ one's picking his teeth with a bone! I think I need a drink! You, boy, fetch me a double whiskey!"

She sat there, pouting with this sneer of disgust and superiority on her face that so annoyed Rumplestiltskin that he wanted to smack her one. She forgot that her parents might have been rich, but her ancestors were as common as his had been. _Just because you married up, dearie, doesn't mean you inherited blue blood._ Still, perhaps if she got enough whiskey down her she'd loosen up some and be tolerable to be around.

Normally, he would have shrugged off her slights, but for some reason he felt strangely . . . protective of the villagers tonight, even though some of them made the evil eye when he came near. Somehow that didn't matter right then, not with Regina up in arms, and even though he was not their lord and had no wish to be, he felt as defensive of them as if he were. He knew them, they were _his_ people, and he didn't like anyone sneering at them.

He signaled Archie for a second ale just as the boy came back with Regina's double shot.

The Queen of the Enchanted Forest clearly was no stranger to alcohol, for she gulped that shot down like it was mother's milk, then asked Archie for another when he handed Rumple his ale.

"Drink much, dearie?" Rumple queried, rather sarcastically, for he avoided drinking more than two pints of ale, because alcohol played havoc with his magical control, causing spells to go awry or to become unpredictable. "Maybe you'd better slow down."

"I'm fine, Rumple! I can drink twice this much!" She slammed the glass down on the table and yelled, "Boy! Bring me another! Quick, now, you lazy little insect!"

Archie went pale and hurried back to the bar to ask Mike for more whiskey.

Regina could feel the noise start to blur in her head and she felt warm. Finally she felt better in here. She tossed her wrap on the table and said, "It's awful hot in here, darling! Maybe I should take a few more things off." She shook her shoulders in a shimmy that would have done a mink in heat proud.

"Maybe you'd better stop belting shots, Regina, before you don't know which way is up," he cautioned.

"I know my way to a bedroom, golden boy!" she smirked and reached out to grab him by the collar.

He shook her off and said, "You might think you can start with me, Regina, but I'm no spoiled princess' plaything."

She giggled and pinched his bottom. "Ooo, are you playing hard to get, Rumple-dumpling? I like them with fight." She tried to grab the ties on his tunic.

"Hells bells, Regina!" he swore. She was three sheets to the wind now and he didn't appreciate her trying to crawl all over him. He pushed her down onto her chair and said, "Have another one on me. I'm going out for some air."

He signaled Mike to bring her another round, and walked rapidly towards the doors. A drunk Regina was _not_ a pretty sight. Especially not when she wanted to tear his clothes off in public.

As he exited the tavern to gulp some air that was not filled with sweat, alcohol, and peanuts, he thought he saw a familiar face at Hans' table.

_Is that Belle? Good gods, what's she doing here? With _him_?_

He rubbed his eyes and just leaned against the side of the building for a few moments. The cool air was soothing and he could finally breathe.

After about five minutes he decided to go back and check on Regina. As he walked back to their table, he glanced again at where Hans was sitting and saw Belle beside him. He almost paused to talk to her, but then he saw Regina stand up and begin stamping her foot on the floor.

_What is she doing?_ He frowned. Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn't dancing.

As he drew closer he could see she was trying to step on a cricket that was running across the floor.

A cricket wearing a tiny red cap like . . .

"Dearest gods! Regina, stop!"

She was wearing a look of wicked glee on her face as she brought the toe of her boot down again, nearly mashing the hapless cricket, who started racing for dear life towards him.

Rumplestiltskin snapped out a reverse enchantment spell quicker than he ever had in his life.

The cricket morphed into Archie just before Regina's foot would have squashed him.

"Aww, Rumple! You ruin all my fun!" Regina pouted, like a child denied a sweet.

Archie ran and hid behind the sorcerer, trembling. "Sir . . . she . . . changed me into a _cricket_! Then she tried to . . . squash me like a . . . b-bug!"

"You're all right now, lad. Go home, tell Mike you feel sick," Rumple urged, knowing his best bet was to get Archie away from Regina.

"I . . . do! Th-thanks, sir!"

Rumple pressed something into the boy's hand. "Here. For putting up with her."

Archie stared at the five gold piece. "I . . . you . . . can't give me this much, sir!" It was more than he made in three months, at least.

"Take it. You've earned it," Rumple closed the boy's hand around the coin. "And don't let your conmen parents see it."

"N-No, sir, Master Gold, sir!" Then he scurried off, the precious gold piece clutched tightly in his palm.

Rumplestiltskin knew he had to get Regina out of here, and fast. Before some other unfortunate soul got blasted by her magic. He took her by the arm. "Come on, dearie. Let's get you home so you can sleep it off."

Regina clung to him and practically drooled all over him. "Oh, Rumple, darling! I have much better things to do than sleep! If you know what I mean!"

Rumple didn't answer, just half-carried the inebriated Regina towards the doors. _Jefferson, you and I are going to have a serious talk once I get her on her way! Gods, she's like a tigeress in heat!_

As he dragged her out, he saw another sight that made his blood boil. Hans had his great big fingers all over Belle, half-dragging her onto the table. Clearly, she was struggling, but to no avail.

Rumple looked around for Sam, the bouncer, but he was across the room, breaking up a fight.

Belle looked up at him, her blue eyes wide.

"Hold on, dearie!" he called to her. "Be right back!"

He half-tossed Regina over his shoulder and managed to get her into her carriage, which was waiting at the front of the tavern.

"Make sure she stays there!" he called to the driver. "I need to take care of the bill."

It was an excuse, for he had everything on a tab which he paid off each month. He pushed past some drunken revelers singing some sad love song and marched straight over to the table where Hans was wrestling with Belle.

The big man almost had her pinned to the table.

Furious, Rumplestiltskin ran a hand over his right fist, augmenting it with some magic.

Then he grabbed Hans by the shoulder, pulling him off Belle and spinning him around. "You stupid lout! When a lady says no, it's no!"

"I jush wanna kiss 'er!"

"Kiss this first!" the sorcerer snarled, then landed a blow straight on Hans' chin that laid him out on the floor.

"You all right?" he asked Belle.

"Yes . . . he didn't . . . well . . . you know . . ."

Around them, patrons were buzzing like a hornet nest.

"Did you see?"

"Laid him out like a ripe melon . . ."

"Right on the _floor_, like that, and Hans' twice his size!"

Mike came up to them. "Master Gold, what should I tell him when he wakes up?"

"Tell him he passed out. It's not like he'll remember what happened anyway," Rumple snorted.

"Uh huh. I have a room in the back where he can sleep it off. He's done it before. Sorry, Mistress Belle. He can get a little . . . rough when he's had a few."

"Yes, I can see that," Belle blushed. She just knew this was going to be the talk of the village for the next few days. _Sorcerer defends Healer's honor in tavern brawl._

"Come, Belle. I'll walk you home," Rumple offered, holding out his arm.

"What about that other lady you were escorting?" Belle asked, taking it.

"Who, Regina? She's from out of town," he said shortly. "And the date's over between us. It was a rather big mistake."

"Mine too," she admitted as they headed out.

Rumple paused to speak to Regina's coachman, telling him to take her back to her palace.

Just then the carriage door opened and Regina stuck her head out. "Rumple! Get in here!"

Rumplestiltskin turned and laid a hand on the queen's forehead. "Sleep," he ordered.

Regina flopped over, snoring loudly.

He bundled her back inside and covered her with her ermine wrap. Then he shut the door. "Take her home, Sutherland!"

"What about you, sir?"

"I'll walk from here. Best of luck to you." He waved as the carriage drove out of sight. It would be midmorning before Regina woke up, no doubt with a splitting headache.

He turned to Belle. "Shall we take a little moonlight stroll, Mistress Avonlea?"

Belle took his hand. "Who was that? It almost looked like . . . but surely not . . ."

"Ah, then you've met Regina?"

"_That_ was Regina? The—the Queen of the Enchanted Forest?" Belle squeaked.

"The same, dearie. In all her drunken glory," Rumple chuckled.

"I saw her once. At her wedding to the king. I was young then, and engaged to Gaston. I thought she was so beautiful. But cold."

"She is that, dearie. Unless she wants something very badly."

"Like you?" Belle asked shrewdly.

Rumple coughed. "Unfortunately. But I managed to get away. Lucky me. What about you? How did you end up with the world's biggest braggart?"

"He asked me out one day as I was going home. Like an idiot, I said yes. And almost ended up like a third-rate tramp. Thank you for saving me."

"It was my pleasure," Rumple said. "It seems we've both learned something tonight."

Belle nodded as they continued to walk to her house. "Yes. Don't go out with someone you hardly know." His hand was warm about hers. "How _did_ you manage to knock him out? I mean, you're not . . . umm . . . as big as he is."

"A little magic goes a long way, dearie. Plus, he was drunk and with his brain soaked with ale, he couldn't even react to me."

"Oh. Of course," Belle concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, as it was dark and she could barely see the path.

Finally, they arrived at Shoe House. Rumplestiltskin reluctantly let go of Belle's hand. "Well, here you are, safe and sound."

"You have my thanks again," Belle found herself saying. Then she did something she'd been wanting to do since he'd laid Hans out on the floor. She put her arms about  
him and kissed him.

It was as if she had been made to kiss him. Her lips fit to his like a custom-made glove and passion jolted through him like a fine wine. He clutched her to him, she made his head spin as if he were drunk, though he was fully sober. She kissed him as though he were the last man on earth, or the only one who mattered to her.

Finally, he broke it off, gasping out, "Do you kiss all your rescuers that way, Belle?"

"You're the first one to ever rescue me from anything, Rum. Usually I can handle myself," she grinned. "It's market day again on Saturday."

"I know. Would you like to meet at my booth?"

"Very much."

"Good. I'll see you there. Oh, and I still have your shoes."

"You can keep them. Give them to Elaina, I'm sure they'll look good on her," Belle laughed. "Good night, Rum." She waved at him from the porch, before she unlocked the door and went inside.

Little did he know, she watched from the window as he walked away, thinking of how that one kiss had made her feel like flying off the top of a mountain. Was this what it felt like to truly love? She couldn't wait for Saturday.

**A/N: So . . . looks like Belle and Rum are back together again, yay! But who thinks we haven't seen the last of Regina? And will Jeff finally meet someone too? A special thanks to cynicsquest for giving me the idea for peanuts and some downhome country fun at the tavern.**


	7. Shall We Dance?

**7**

**Shall We Dance?**

Rumplestiltskin found Jefferson awake and reading a book from his library called _Contracts and Provisos: How to Make a Deal That Lasts_. It was one of Rumple's classic contract law books, and had helped the sorcerer many times with difficult customers who wanted to either buy his magical items and potions or have him make up something for them. He was surprised Jefferson was reading it, since Jeff wasn't much of a reader. Their schoolmaster had to whack him on the knuckles to get him to pay attention when doing vocabulary and reading aloud.

The former mercenary looked up as Rumple entered the sitting room, a smile brightening his face. "You're back kind of early. It's only nine thirty. So, how'd it go?"

"Jeff, I'm going to kill you."

"What? What happened?"

"It was the date from hell, that's what happened!" Rumple snapped, throwing himself into a chair before the fire.

"Whoa, take it easy, Rum! Tell me what went wrong."

Rumplestiltskin described the evening, ending with, "And I shoved her in that coach so fast my head damn near spun around. I ought to kick your ass from here to the other side of the world, Jefferson Hatter! _Why_ couldn't you tell that she's a high-toned condescending witch who wants me for my power and my fame, and she'll use any means necessary to get what she wants? She tried to put a lust curse on me! _And_ she changed an innocent serving boy into a _cricket_ just for some sick joke!"

"Gods, Rum! I swear, on my grandmother's grave, I didn't know!" Jefferson cried, horrified. His grandmother had raised him since he was three and his parents both died of marsh fever. "See, I've only been her advisor since the king died six months ago. Before that I was just another palace guardsman. But she noticed me one day and asked my advice about some merchant, so I told her I thought the guy was a cheat, and she listened to me and sent him away. Turned out he was a crook and robbed some poor old lady and killed her in the city. The local watch was searching for him to hang him once they caught him, so I gave Regina good advice. Next thing I know I'm living in a wing of the palace and sitting in on her privy council. I thought it was great. She never seemed that harsh or . . . or wicked, not when I was around, and even though I knew the rumors, I didn't really believe them. Hell, Rum, you know how people exaggerate, and some of the nobles at court were jealous as spit when she married the king, you know she was a rich squire's daughter, but hardly a duchess. I knew she had magic, but I'd never seen her use it, and she seemed to be good to her stepdaughter. She asked me to find someone she could relate to, a companion, and I immediately thought of you."

"And you never saw her curse anyone? Or smack around her stepdaughter?"

"No. If I had, do you think I'd have suggested you go out with her, old pal? Come on, Rum, you know me better than that!" Jefferson looked slightly ill. "Oh, there was talk that she was ferociously strict and the servants were afraid of her, but hell, I had a lot of commanding officers like that and they were good people. Never heard a word against her from Snow, and I was her bodyguard before I became Regina's advisor. I just thought she was misunderstood." He shook his head. "Looks like I was the one who got the wool pulled over my eyes. I'm sorry, Rum. If I knew she was the bitch from hell, I'd never have told you to go out with her."

Rumple eyed his best friend for another minute. He could tell Jefferson was truly sorry and felt bad about the whole thing. The sorcerer could see Regina was a master manipulator and had suckered his friend into thinking she was the poor misunderstood little queen. Which couldn't be further from the truth. "All right, Jeff. Quit groveling. I can see how she'd take you in. And who knows, she might have chosen you as her advisor because you were a naïve guardsman and maybe she wanted you in her bed."

"You forgive me then, Rum?"

"Yes, gods know it's not the first time you've talked me into trouble."

"Hey, we were kids then!" Jefferson objected. "And you didn't always follow the rules either."

"Better than you, Jeff."

Jefferson sighed. "Maybe it's good I found this out now. Now I know the truth, I won't be taken in by her sweet talk anymore. Gods above, sometimes she looked at me like . . . do you _really_ think she'd sleep with me? I mean, I'm not even low-class nobility and that sort of thing would be frowned upon . . ."

"I think Regina does what best pleases Regina, and to the seven hells with what people think. So have a care, Jeff. She's like a black widow spider and you know what they do with males after they're finished with them."

Jefferson winced. "Yeah. They eat them. No thanks!" He shuddered. "I'll make it up to you, Rum. You say you're meeting this Healer, Belle, right?"

"Yes, at my booth tomorrow."

"Uh huh. Well, how about I mind the booth and your kids for you while you go have a good time with her? Sound good to you?"

"Yes, so long as you don't get bored and wander off and look at swords and axes with Jack," Rumple said. "I need you to sell my potions and amulets."

"I will, I promise. I'll sell them all, you'll see. You just worry about showing your little Healer a good time. Deal?"

"Deal. I'll give you money to feed the children. Did they behave for you?"

"Yeah, they were great. Thanks, Rum. I promise, I won't screw up this time."

Rumple rose. "Famous last words, dearie!" He clapped Jefferson on the shoulder. "Well, I'm off to bed, got to get up early tomorrow and get everything ready."

"I should turn in too," Jefferson agreed.

Rumplestiltskin turned to go down the hall to his bedroom, when Jeff called out, "Sweet dreams, buddy!"

The sorcerer smiled to himself. If Belle were in his dreams, they would be sweet indeed, but he didn't know how much rest he'd be getting.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was up at the crack of dawn, bathing in her clawfoot tub, and fixing her hair for the day. She decided to wear it half loose, letting most of her sable curls cascade down her back, and putting up only the hair on the sides. She picked out a bright spring green dress to wear with a light ivory crocheted shawl. She wore her favorite porcelain teacup earrings and matching necklace. Her aunt had given it to her for a birthday present some years ago. Today she wore it for luck. Aunt Miranda had always said someday Belle would meet a man who truly appreciated her for all that she was. Belle hoped that Rumplestiltskin was that man at last.

"You look great, Mom," Rennie said as Belle came into the kitchen, where her eldest was making toast, scrambled eggs and ham, and coffee. "But please the gods, don't tell me you're dressed like that to meet Hans the Halfwit."

Belle shuddered. "No! I had enough of him last night. He bored me to death and then he tried to . . . take advantage of me."

"He _what_? That—that miserable cretin!" Rennie flared. "I ought to beat him round the square with my crook."

"Beat who, Ren?" Rafe queried, coming in with a basket of eggs.

"That oaf Big Hans. Mom went out with him last night and he—he tried to . . . compromise her."

"That scummy bastard! I'm calling him out!" Rafe swore.

"Raphael Avonlea, you'll do no such thing!" Belle cried.

"But Mom, he insulted your honor!"

"Yes, but I don't need you challenging him to a duel when Rumplestiltskin already knocked him out for me."

"He did?" Rafe sounded pleased as punch. "Good for him! I knew I liked that guy for some reason."

"Is _that_ who you're dressed up for?" asked Serenity knowingly.

Belle nodded, blushing slightly. "I'm going to meet him at his potions booth today. Maybe we'll take a walk and have lunch."

Rafe hooted. "Yeah, Mom, show him what a hot little lady you are!"

"_Rafe_! She's your _mother_, not some village girl, for gods' sake!" Rennie gasped.

"So? If I were walking out with her, I'd think she was hotter than a bonfire. For an older woman," he added, smirking.

"I'll show you old, young man!" Belle mock-growled, and playfully swatted her son on the bottom.

Rafe backed away, his hands held out. "Hey, Mom! Fifteen's too old to spank, remember? I was kidding!"

"Serves you right," Rennie sniffed.

Rafe stuck his tongue out at her. "Better watch it, Serenity. With your attitude, you'll end up an old maid."

"Ha! Shows how much _you_ know!"

"What's for breakfast, Mom? I'm starving!" Phillip cried, bounding down the stairs, his hair sticking up all over, still in his nightshirt.

"Me too! Me too!" chorused the twins.

"Me three!" June called.

Ariel came down humming and combing her hair with a seashell hairbrush.

Peter rushed into the house, his face red from exertion, carrying the pail full of goats' milk. "Is the food ready yet? I could eat a cow!"

Rennie rolled her eyes. Then she dished up the scrambled eggs with ham.

Kristen came over and helped get the toast on a platter and the honey, butter, and sugar from the pantry.

As usual, Aurora was last to the table, heavy-lidded and looking like she could sleep the afternoon away.

"What's the occasion, Mom?" asked Kristen, noticing the dress. "You look like you're going to a dance."

"Maybe she is, little sister. With Rumplestiltskin!" Rafe chuckled.

"Aw, he can't dance, Rafe. He's got a gimpy leg," Nick snorted.

"Nicholas! Don't be rude!" Belle scolded.

"What? It's true. He's a lame old geezer!"

"If he heard you say that, he'd hex you to the moon," Peter predicted.

"I'm not afraid of any sorcerer!" Nick boasted.

"Then you're stupid," June said.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"That's enough, the both of you!" Belle snapped. Why must her children always quarrel with each other? "June, stop teasing Nick. And Nick, you stop insulting Rumplestiltskin. He was very kind to me the other night and you know how I feel about making sport of people with disabilities."

"_Are_ you going out with him, Mom?" asked Ariel curiously.

"I may be. If he wants me to."

"Aww, you don't need no sorcerer, Mom!" Nick groaned.

"Well, _I_ like him! I think he's neat," Phillip said, spreading honey on his toast.

"Who asked you?" Nick scowled.

"_I_ think Mom can go out with whoever she wants," Aurora declared, taking a big gulp of her coffee.

"Yeah! So there!" Phillip said to his brother.

"Wanna knuckle sandwich?" Nick asked, clenching a fist.

Phillip shrank backwards.

"Want a bath in the goat trough again?" Rafe asked, glaring at Nick. "Leave Phil alone, or else I'll be happy to give you one."

Nick shook his head. He knew better than to test Rafe.

Belle began to eat her scrambled eggs and ham on toast, trying her best to ignore the spats going on around her. She didn't want to lose her temper this morning. She wondered as she ate if Rumplestiltskin had the same problem with his brood.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"What do you mean, you used my hairbrush on that mangy fox of yours, Jasmine?" Elaina shrieked when she went to find her boar-bristle hairbrush and discovered it missing. "Now how am I going to brush my hair?"

"I just used it to make her fur lie flat before I let her go," Jasmine defended. She could talk to animals and was always tending wild creatures who got hurt nearby. "Here. It's perfectly useable." She tried to give the brush back to Elaina.

"Eww! After you used it on a wild _animal_? I'll get fleas! Or mange! That's disgusting!"

"Well, it's not like you don't have fifty other ones," Jasmine pointed out.

"That's not the point, you little barbarian! Papa, she stole my brush and combed her fox with it and now it's . . . contaminated!" Elaina wailed.

"It is not! Now stop screaming like a little baby," Jasmine cried.

"I am _not_ a baby, you—" Elaina lifted a hand, as if she were going to slap Jasmine.

"I wouldn't if I were you, dearie," warned Rumplestiltskin, catching Elaina's wrist in a firm grip. "Not unless you want to stay home and scrub all the floors." He had come into their room to see what all the yelling was about.

Elaina froze. "B-But Papa, she _stole_ my brush!" She lowered her arm.

"I _borrowed _it," Jasmine corrected.

"That still doesn't give you the right to hit her," he reproved. "What's my third House Rule, Elaina Gold?"

"We don't hit each other," Elaina recited sullenly. "But now my brush is ruined! And it's all _her_ fault."

"It's not ruined, Papa! And Russet didn't have fleas," Jasmine objected.

"Let me see the brush, Jasmine," Rumple said, holding out his hand.

Jasmine placed the brush in it.

Rumple took it and muttered a disinfecting charm over it. "There, dearie! Good as new. Now stop shrieking, before Uncle Jeff thinks we're haunted by a banshee." He handed Elaina the brush. Then he turned to Jasmine. "Jasmine, you might consider asking before you borrow Elaina's things next time."

"Yes, Papa. I'll buy a brush at the market today." Jasmine rolled her eyes at Elaina.

Rumple left them to finish dressing and went downstairs.

"Is the war over?" Bae asked dryly as he handed Ivy a slab of bacon.

"What was going on up there, Rum?" Jefferson asked. "The Second Ogre Wars?"

"Jasmine and Elaina were having a little disagreement, but I settled it," Rumple replied, sitting down at the table.

"Elaina was having a hissy fit over her hairbrush," Jack shook his head.

"When she gets going, she can scream loud enough to be heard in the Enchanted Forest," Tom said.

"Over the stupidest things," Finn remarked. "You'd think somebody died, the way she goes on."

"Who died, Finn?" asked Clary, rubbing her eyes as she came into the kitchen.

"Nobody, snippet," he answered, setting out the silverware. "Though the way Elaina's screaming, you'd think somebody killed her best friend."

"Her brush _is_ her best friend," Jack said.

"I got lots of best friends," Clary declared, climbing up on her father's lap. "There's Papa, an' Uncle Jeff, an' Chuckles, Flopsy, Mopsy, an' umm . . . I'm hungry, Papa!"

"Ivy has pancakes and sausage for you, imp," Rumple said, cuddling his youngest on his knee.

"Thank all the gods! Otherwise we'd be here all day listening to her tell us the names of all her dumb dolls," Jack said with relief.

"Papa, Jack said my dolls were dumb!"

"Jack, stop starting with her. I've had enough to deal with this morning, I don't need you adding to it," his father said. Thank goodness today was market day! The children needed to get out of the castle and run around before they strangled each other. Or he was tempted to turn them into frogs. Plus, he couldn't wait to see Belle again.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Today, the Gold booth was selling potions that removed warts and blemishes, and charms that made one's hair thick and silky. People were already lining up to buy some, waiting impatiently as Jefferson, Finn, Elaina, and Ivy set up.

Rumplestiltskin leaned against one side of the booth, looking for Belle amongst the throng. To his surprise, many of the villagers nodded at him and even gave him a smile or two. He raised an eyebrow. Usually they regarded him with suspicion or distrust. He wondered what had gotten into them that morning.

Just then he caught sight of Belle in a striking green dress. He waved and then turned to Jefferson. "You'll be all right here for a few hours?"

"Of course, Rum. Go on, get over there and say hello to her. I'll make sure nobody cheats you." Jefferson said easily.

Rumplestiltskin walked off towards Belle, who was across the way, buying pastries for three of her youngsters, then sending them off to eat them with Aurora on the village square.

As the sorcerer headed over to the Healer, Jefferson winked at Ivy and said, "What do you say we have a sale today?"

"A sale, Uncle Jeff?"

"Yeah, you know—buy two get the third one half off. That sort of thing. I guarantee we'll sell out at midday. Then you'll be free to wander the market."

Ivy grinned. "That's really clever, Uncle Jeff! Let's do it!" If they closed early she would have time to browse the book stalls and see if there were any new books out.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle waited for Rumple to come to her before greeting him. "It's a lovely morning, isn't it? But I'm afraid my day didn't start out so well. My children, some of them, were at each other's throats."

"You and me both, dearie," Rumple said.

"You mean, yours fight too?"

"Like cats and dogs sometimes," he admitted. "Some mornings are better than others."

"I know what you mean." She took his arm. "I like that shirt you're wearing."

"Blue's one of my better colors. Or so Elaina tells me. She picked out the cloth and Ivy made it for me. She's almost as good as I am."

"You spin wool?"

He laughed. "You didn't know? That was my occupation before I became known as a sorcerer. I didn't always spin straw into gold, dearie. That came later, when my magic woke. Before, I spun ordinary wool into thread. Just like any village spinner." He looked at Belle appreciatively. "That green suits you, Belle. It reminds me of a spring meadow."

"Thank you, Rum," she said. "Green is one of my favorite colors. Green for life and growing things."

"And your teacups?"

"That was a gift from my aunt. Because I love tea."

"What's your favorite?"

"All kinds. But I think I like cinnamon orange spice best."

"Let's get some then, shall we? There's a tea seller down this way," Rumple said, and led her across the street and down Spice Way, which was filled with booths of shopkeepers selling exotic herbs, spices, and sachets of all kinds. "He owes me a favor, dearie. And I can get a good deal from him."

"Oh, but you don't have to," Belle protested. "After what you did last night, you don't owe me a thing."

"I insist, dearie." Rumple said, feeling a familiar heat travel up his hand as they walked along. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman like Belle on his arm, and what was even more shocking was the fact that the villagers seemed to approve of it. It made his heart sing.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

An hour later, Elaina was growing restless. Unlike her sisters, she hated sitting still for long periods of time, unless she was trying on dresses and hats or playing about with hair styles. Half their stock of potions and charms were sold, thanks to Jefferson's buy two get one half off scheme.

"I'm going to get some pastries," she told Ivy. "Before they're all gone. I'll bring you and Uncle Jeff one back."

"Okay. Get me a chocolate filled one."

"And me a strawberry cream cheese," Jefferson said. He gave her some money.

"I wanna sticky bun!" Clary called from where she was playing school with her dolls in the wagon.

"One chocolate, one strawberry cream cheese, one sticky bun," Elaina recited. "And I'm not sure what I want."

As she waited on line, trying to decide what she wanted, Elaina felt a tap on her arm. She turned and smiled as she saw Rafe. "Hello! Are you hungry too?"

"Always," he laughed, his eyes crinkling. "I feel like my stomach is this gaping hole nowadays. That's why I'm willing to wait on line." He had his bow slung over his back, as well as a quiver of arrows.

"I just needed to get away for awhile. Sometimes my little sisters can drive me crazy," Elaina admitted.

"I hear you. Sometimes it sucks being the eldest. Except for Rennie, I mean."

"I know. I'm the eldest girl in my family."

"Some days I just want to wallop my brothers," Rafe commiserated. "They're such little pains. I almost dumped Nick in the trough this morning for being annoying and mean to Phillip."

"I almost smacked Jasmine for using my good brush on her stupid rescued fox," Elaina sighed. "She actually combed its fur with it!"

"Ugh! She reminds me of Nick and his fascination with frogs. Once he brought three frogs in the house and they got out of the box he had them in and then we had frogs all over the table and the kitchen. Mom nearly had a heart attack." He sniffed at the pastries. "What kind do you like best?"

"Umm . . . I like cinnamon . . . and apple too. I can't make up my mind which one I want."

"So get both," Rafe said. "That's what I do. In fact, let me treat you."

"Oh, I couldn't!"

"Sure you can," He flashed a smile at her that made her knees go weak. Then before she could say anything more, he stepped up to the counter and ordered-a cinnamon pastry, an apple pastry, and two blueberry ones.

"Here you go," he said, and handed her the two warm pastries, after she bought Jefferson's, Clary's and Ivy's.

"That's so sweet of you, Rafe! Let me just give these to my family, and then we can go sit somewhere and eat them." She was almost licking her lips in anticipation. And even better was that she had a handsome boy beside her to share them with.

"I know the perfect spot," Rafe called, sighing softly as he watched her run over to the potions booth, her golden hair bouncing down her back. "Lady Luck's with me today!" he murmured happily and waited for Elaina to return. He had some village girls making eyes at him before, but he'd never found one that interested him enough to talk with. Until now.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Ariel followed the sound of a flute playing, high and clear, through the market stalls until she came to the village green, where a boy with sandy hair sat on a log, playing soft tunes. With a gasp, she recognized him. It was Finn, Rumplestiltskin's son. The one who liked music. Like she did. But she hadn't known he could play like this. He was almost as good as a merman.

She drew closer, her foot tapping out a rhythm in time to his song. Unlike most humans, he had perfect pitch and melody, his playing was rich and filled with emotion. He made her want to dance and sing all at once.

Finn looked up, as he sometimes did, to see if anyone was listening. He was used to playing for an audience, he had been performing since he was five, but sometimes he just liked to play for fun, like now. When he saw Ariel standing there, he waved. "Hello, Ariel. Would you like to request a song?"

She smiled shyly. "The one you were playing sounded beautiful. Like birds singing."

"Really? I just made that up."

"I liked it. Do you play the flute a lot?"

"Every day. But I can play other instruments too, like the guitar and drums and accordion. I can even sing, it's part of my Gift."

"You have magic?"

"I'm a true Bard. At least that's what Papa says. I make magic through music." He held out his flute. "This is all I have left of my real parents. They were traveling minstrels. This was my mom's flute. She taught me to play when I was five."

"Is it magical?"

"No. But it's my real dad's craftsmanship. He made musical instruments to sell as well as playing them. It's made of cherrywood and silver. He gave it to her as a birthday present before I was born. But they were killed when I was five and a half. I guess it's a kind of heirloom."

Ariel examined the flute carefully. "It's beautiful."

"Can you play?"

She shook her head. "No. But I can sing. All mermaids can."

"Sing to enchant and beguile. Me too. Well, not so much with my voice as with my music." He took the flute back and caressed it lovingly. "Would you mind if I asked you something? It's kind of . . . personal. You can tell me to mind my own business if you don't want to answer me."

She cocked her head. "How do I know if I mind unless you ask me?"

"Umm . . . how'd you ever end up with legs? On land?"

Ariel was relieved. That wasn't an embarrassing question to answer. Sometimes the village boys asked her ridiculous questions. Like if all her people swam naked. "It's forbidden for my people to have contact with yours. My people believe humans are a threat to all the creatures that live in the sea. But I was always fascinated with humans and their world. I disobeyed my king and father, the Lord of Atlantis, and I saved a human sailor from drowning during a shipwreck. And I wasn't sorry about it. I refused to apologize or give up my . . . he called it an obsession with humans. So he exiled me, cast me out and told me to live among them if I liked them so much."

"But . . . you were his daughter! How could he do such a cruel thing?"

"It's the Law of the Sea. And it is harsh to those who break it. So I left, and went to the sea witch Ursula. For a price, she gave me legs like a human girl."

"What price?"

"The change was permanent. I can never go back to the sea."

"That's awful! You can't ever be a mermaid again?"

"No. Not like they are."

"Maybe you should talk to my father. He might be able to reverse the spell."

"No. This was the choice I made when I chose to break the Laws of the Sea. I'm no longer Ariel, Princess of Atlantis, daughter of Triton. I'm Ariel Avonlea now, daughter of Belle the Healer."

"But you can still sing."

"Yes. No one can take that from me. I was born with magic and nothing will change that."

"It's not right," Finn argued. "Your family shouldn't just . . . throw you out because you don't believe like they do."

"Don't feel sorry for me, Finn. My heart chose long before I left the sea. I'm happier now than I ever was underwater. I have a family who loves me just for me, and doesn't think I'm a crazy misfit."

"But don't you miss it?"

"The sea? Yes and no. I take it with me wherever I go, in here," she tapped her chest. "And though I don't have a tail anymore, I can still sing the songs of my people. That's the true heart of the ocean."

"Would you . . . sing some for me?"

"Here? Now?"

"Why not? You can sing and I'll try to follow along on my flute. It'll be like a duet." He beckoned her to sit next to him on the fallen log.

Ariel came and sat there, the wind was blowing and playing havoc with her tresses, but she didn't care if her hair was a wreck. She felt the familiar urge rising in her, and she said softly, "This is a song we sing during wedding feasts. It's called _Heart of the Sea_."

Then she opened her mouth and began to sing.

Finn was nearly hypnotized by the words that flowed from her, the song of love and strength and devotion so powerful that he nearly lost himself and just sat in awe. Her voice was high and sweet, as clear as bell, and it echoed in his head the way his mother's used to when she sang him a lullaby. For a moment he just stared, and then his natural resistance kicked in and he began to listen to the song the way a musician would, for tempo, notes, and rhythm. He tapped three fingers on his knee, getting the feel of it, bold and saucy, like the sea itself.

Then he picked up his flute and began to play. At first he played counterpoint melody, but then as his magic absorbed the new sound, he began to play more surely and smoothly, until by the end they were in perfect harmony.

Ariel looked at him, her eyes glowing. "That was fun! You played with me like you knew that song all the time."

Finn shrugged. "That's my magic. It does that sometimes. But you've got the best vocals I've ever heard."

"Mermaids sing," Ariel blushed.

"Let's play another one. Sing me something else."

Ariel knew plenty of sea chanteys, from listening to the sailors singing while she lolled in the wavewash. She sang three more of them before a crowd of onlooks came up and said, "Hey, minstrel, sing us something we can dance to."

Ariel looked at him, startled. "They . . . want us to sing and play for them?"

Finn nodded. He calmly reached into a pocket and withdrew a battered cup. This he set a few feet before him.

"What's that for?" asked Ariel.

"If I'm going to sing for my supper, at least I ought to get paid for it," Finn answered. "Ready?"

"I . . . I've never done this before," Ariel stammered. Everyone seemed to be looking at them.

"Relax, Ari. Just sing like when we were alone. You'll do fine."

"You've done this before?"

"Yup. All the time. Don't pay attention to them. Just listen to the music. Let's see . . . dance tunes . . . how about _Pretty Maid Goes A'Milkin_?" He chose a popular country tune.

"Um . . . I'm not sure I know that one."

"Don't worry. I'll play it through and if you can remember the words, jump on in. Since we're not professionals, we don't need to worry about perfect. And perfect's overrated anyway, as my papa says." Finn put the flute to his lips and began to play a lively reel.

People began to clap and sing along, and much to Ariel's amazement, actually pulled their girlfriends and wives onto the green and began to dance. Suddenly, Ariel remembered a girl who lived close by singing this very song one day as she brought her sheep to pasture. And she never forgot lyrics. She grinned and began to sing, with all the bright happiness the song called for.

More people came out on the green and when the song was over, many of them clapped and bowed and more than a few tossed a coin in Finn's cup.

"That was some mighty fine playing, young 'un," said old Miles, the tanner. "Let's have us another one, missy. Do ye know _She Walks in Beauty?_"

Finn glanced at Ariel and she nodded. "Sure do, Master Miles." He put his fingers on his flute again.

Once more the green echoed with laughter, music, and Ariel's haunting beautiful voice, as they played song after song for the enjoyment of the villagers.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"Sounds like there's some kind of concert going on over there," Belle pointed to where a knot of people were gathered on the green. She carefully wiped her sticky fingers on a handkerchief, for she'd been eating a skewer of fresh fruit Rumple had bought her and drinking some cool cider.

Rumple pricked up his ears, then nodded when he heard the familiar notes of a certain flute. "That's Finn, dearie. He's a born entertainer, that one."

"He plays amazingly well for only thirteen."

"It's the Bardic Gift. He could play a cheap tin whistle and sound incredible."

Just then they heard Ariel singing, pure and clear, even above the clapping and whistling crowd.

"Oh! I think . . . that sounds like my Ariel! But she hardly ever . . . I mean she sings for us at home but hardly ever in public!" Belle gasped.

"That's my son's idea, if I know Finn," Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "What a lovely voice! The perfect complement to his playing, and I'm no music expert, dearie."

"That's the mermaid in her," Belle said proudly. "She could sound lovely yelling swear words, I'd bet."

That made Rumplestiltskin laugh. "At least she'd make getting scolded pleasant to listen to."

They listened to their children for a few more moments, pride swelling in their chests.

As more and more people heard the music, they came to listen. Soon there was quite a crowd.

Belle looked at Rumple. "There must be at least half the village here! Are they—they're not using magic or something are they?"

Rumple shook his head. "No. There's no compulsion in her voice, or in his songs. Besides, Finn knows better. He can only use his magic if it's a matter of life and death or an emergency. I let him practice it at home, under my supervision, but never here, with innocent people around. He could compel you to stand on your head, or sleep for a day, or call the beasts of the fields and birds of the air, or dance yourself half to death. Magic's not a toy, Belle, and all of my children know it."

"He wouldn't disobey you then?"

"Not if he wanted to sit down for supper or play that flute again. He tried that just once with me. One sound spanking and a two week session without his flute taught him I meant what I said. He's never done that again."

"Maybe I should set up lessons for Ariel, Kristen, and June," Belle mused.

"Anytime, dearie. Just bring them on over. And yourself, of course!" Rumple winked at her.

Belle found herself swaying back and forth to the music. Finn and Ariel were now playing some slow dance tunes. They were nothing like what she had been accustomed to at court, with the stately promenades and so forth, but she found her feet tapping and longing to glide across the green. It had been forever since she had danced. Not since she was a princess at her father's court.

"Rum, can you dance?" she asked before she thought better of it.

"I used to be able to."

Then she gasped, realizing what she'd said and whom she'd said it to. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean . . . I just forgot about your leg . . ."

"Me too, dearie," he waved off her apology. "It's easy to forget when I'm with you." He patted the offending appendage lightly. "It's not bothering me today, so I think I could manage a few turns about the green. If we go slowly."

"Are you sure?"

"Very," he answered. It was true, his leg felt fine, but even if it hurt like seven hells, he'd never refuse a dance with Belle. "Shall we dance, dearie?" He held out a hand to her.

She curtsied and took it, moving into his arms. "Let's, my darling sorcerer. Do you know how to do a minuet?"

"I do." Then he spun her around and they began to dance, moving gracefully and slowly across the grass in time to the music.

At first Belle was concerned she'd hurt Rum's leg, but the confident way he held her and moved in time to the music soon dispelled that fear. She relaxed in his embrace, loving the way he held her, gently yet firmly, like a delicate object he wished to keep forever. Her feet followed the rhythm of the music effortlessly, but her heart was beating in a rhythm all its own. She laughed as she looked up at him, giddy as young girl again, but far wiser than that girl had been and also far surer that Gaston had never aroused her like this. She thrilled to his hand on her waist, his touch set her on fire, and yet he wasn't trying to paw her or take advantage of holding her close to steal kisses.

For the first time, she could choose whether to accept or spurn a man's advances.

She tilted her head up just as he was looking down at her and their mouths met.

She tasted like strawberries on a hot summer day, sweet and delectable. And all for him, he thought as he kissed her ardently, lightly, allowing her to refuse if she wished. Apparently, she didn't, because the kiss deepened, sending him to new heights of sensation. He didn't even notice the slight throb in his leg. He doubted he'd notice if someone shot him in the back with an arrow. Her kiss was like the sun after rain, it filled the lonely spaces of his heart and unlocked doors he'd closed long ago. It filled him with light, and a love he'd never known until now.

Holding her close, they danced to the strains of a stately waltz and then to a minuet, ignoring everything except each other. Because, for that one moment, there was no one else. Only a pair of blue eyes gazing into the heart of deep brown ones, eyes that loved, laughed, and kept the secrets they found there safe forever.

"I will never betray you, Rum. Not like Milah."

"I know. And I will never hurt you, Belle. Not like Gaston."

"You are like nothing I ever imagined. And yet all I have ever dreamed of."

"Then keep dreaming, dearie. For love is hope . . . and it fuels our dreams. Today, tomorrow, forever."

"Will we have forever, Rum?"

"If you want it. I'd give you the moon and the stars on a silver platter if you asked me," he said tenderly.

"I want only one thing from you, Rumplestiltskin."

"What's that, dearie? My firstborn child?"

"No, silly! I want your love, and in return I give you mine."

"Is that all?"

"Just that."

"Then it's yours."

The kiss that followed was the stuff dreams were made of and it caused the villagers who observed it to sigh in envy and wonder how true love had found the unlikeliest pair of all.

**A/N: Okay, now who wants to hear wedding bells pealing madly?**


	8. The Dinner Prank

**8**

**Dinner Prank**

During the next three weeks, Belle and Rumplestiltskin continued meeting at the market, and the love that had blossomed when he had asked her to dance that day on the village green had burst into full flower. Though she had ten children and he had eight, and both had various duties to attend to, they still managed to find time for a quiet walk or two and sometimes lunch late in the afternoon. Rumple's reputation had gone up several notches after Archie had proclaimed that the sorcerer had saved him from getting squashed to death as cricket by Regina, and seeing how happy Belle and he were made the villagers, at least most of them, change their tune about the "evil" Dark One. Of course, there were still a few stubborn souls who claimed evil had a fair face and shunned him, but at least no one made the evil eye at him to his face any longer, or mothers didn't permit their children to talk with him.

Even bluff Hans displayed no jealousy when he saw the couple out walking, saying with a shrug, "She were too smart for me anyhow. I need a woman with less brains and a little more meat on her bones. I hope Rum makes her happy."

It was fast becoming apparent, especially to their children, that Belle and Rumplestiltskin _did_ make each other very happy. So much so that Belle now sang to herself while weeding the herb garden of an afternoon, and Rumple whistled while brewing potions in his cauldron. Some of the children, especially the older Bae, Ivy, Elaina, and Rafe, thought it amusing and funny to watch their parents fall in love, just as they were doing, and didn't mind at all the obvious conclusion that would come of it. But the younger set minded quite a bit, especially the twins (mostly Nick), Jack, Tom, and even Finn and Kristen, didn't believe they needed anything to change in their households and the possible addition of maybe another adult and several siblings made them very agitated.

Almost three and half weeks after the dance, Rumplestiltskin invited Belle to eat at the castle again, only he asked her to come alone this time. "I have a very important thing to ask you, but I want you to be sure of your answer, and in order to do that you need to come to dinner and spend a bit of time with my children."

Belle, who suspected what he wished to ask her, decided to bake some wild blueberry pies for the event, and while she was pressing her favorite green gown again, sent the twins, Phillip, and Kristen out to pick blueberries, which grew near the stream in a long staggering line of bushes.

Baron came along, waddling happily beside Kristen, and when the children halted and began to pick berries and put them in their pails and baskets, the black bear began to eat as well. Whatever they had just picked.

Phillip looked up from stripping a bush and yelled, "Baron! You crazy old thing! Quit eating my blueberries!"

The bear had part of his nose buried in the bucket and was swallowing berries like there was no tomorrow.

Phillip ran over and tugged on his ear, but Baron ignored him to continue filling his belly. "Kristen! Tell him to stop! He's eating all the berries I just picked for Mom's pies!"

Kristen looked up from filling her own basket, her fingers stained blue with juice, and sighed. "Phillip, he's just hungry. You can pick more."

"Get him off!" Phillip cried angrily. "That lazy fat old bear is ruining everything!"

"Baron is not lazy!" Kristen hollered. "These bushes don't belong to you."

"But Mom needs them to bake," Phillip protested.

"Do you _really_ want to help her make pies for the Golds?" his sister asked. "I mean, half of them are sorcerers just like he is!"

"So? Who cares? I think they're cool and I _like_ Master Gold," Phillip said.

"Then you want him as our new father?" Kristen asked pensively.

Before Phillip could answer, Nick interrupted, "_I_ sure don't! I don't want no evil sorcerer as my father! I don't think we even _need_ a father. We've done just fine on our own till now."

Nora just nodded, she was the quiet twin, and agreed almost always with Nick.

Phillip looked from one sibling to the other. "But . . . Mom likes him. He makes her happy. She deserves to be happy, don'tcha think?"

Kristen was quiet for a moment. "Yes, but . . . what if she only thinks he makes her happy? What if . . . she marries him and then they hate each other? They fight all the time and stuff? That's what happened with my parents. They used to love each other and then one day they started quarreling about everything and they never stopped. It's why I was in the woods the day of the fire. Because I couldn't stand their yelling anymore. I don't want to live with that again."

"Me neither," Nick said, his cheeks stained with blueberry juice, as he ate while he picked.

"You hardly even remember your parents," Phillip argued. "Nora said so. What's so bad about having a father again?"

"Cause then you gotta listen to him as well as Mom," Nick pointed out. "We already got Rafe telling us what to do, I don't need anybody else doing it."

"Yeah. And then he could . . . magic us if we don't do what he says. Like the old witch," Nora added fearfully.

"But he's not evil!" Phillip felt compelled to defend the absent Rumplestiltskin. "Lookit what he did for Archie! He saved his life."

"That was only once," Nick said stubbornly. "We don't need a pa, Phillip. Mom's good enough."

Nora nodded.

Kristen agreed, saying, "I just think this might be a mistake. I mean, if she marries him, we also have all those other kids to get along with. What if we hate each other?"

Phillip sighed. There was nothing he could say to that, since he was worried about that too. "Come on, let's pick more berries. An'Nick, quit eatin' them! Otherwise you'll have a tummyache."

"I don't care. They taste the best right off the bush," his brother answered, stuffing another handful into his mouth. "You can't tell me what to do, Phillip!"

That was true. Phillip was the youngest, so he never got to tell anyone what to do. Phillip went back to picking. If Nick got a tummyache it'd be all his own fault and he'd be the one to take Mom's disgusting medicine.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Up at the castle, it was lesson time for the Gold children. Elaina was learning how to bake muffins with Ivy, who had just finished her history composition. Jasmine was practicing her Beast Speech, speaking like a bear, while Finn made some mice twirl and leap across the floor with a certain tune. Bae was reading a book on military tactics Jefferson had lent him, he'd finished his formal schooling a year ago, but finished didn't necessarily mean he was done learning, as Rumple told him. Tom had just finished a test on the capitals of all the kingdoms and the names of their rulers and was now drawing on a tiny tablet. Clary was carefully writing out the alphabet on a slate, as well as her name. And Jack was squirming and sighing as he tried to figure out math problems.

Rumple walked around, checking on how each child was doing.

"Put a bit more of a growl into that, dearie," he told Jasmine. "Like this—rrrowr!" and he growled so loudly Clary jumped in her chair.

Jasmine grinned and tried to imitate him, her second attempt was better than her first. Her magic lay with the land and living things, she could speak the tongues of all that swam, flew, crawled, or walked and also cause plants to grow and flowers to bloom. She was what Rumple called a nature witch. She also enjoyed doctoring hurt wild things.

Rumplestiltskin paused beside Finn, watching as the boy cleverly controlled the mice by shifting his song, making them jump over each other like they were playing leapfrog. "Good, Finn! Your control has gotten better. Now release them, lad."

"But not in my kitchen!" Ivy said. "I won't have mice in my pantry!"

Finn played a quick round on his flute, and the mice scampered out the door that Jack held open.

Rumple examined Tom's drawing, a miniature of a bird. "What's that?"

"Supposed to be a mockingbird," Tom said, shading it in.

"It's very good. You could be a painter and paint all the noble ladies portraits," Rumple praised.

Tom grinned and kept drawing.

The sorcerer checked on Clary next, helping her to print some G's and J's. While he was doing that, Jack attempted to sneak out the back door, but his father was wise to him and called, "Come back over here, Jack! Half these problems are blank."

"Aww, but Papa!" Jack groaned. "I'll do 'em later. I want to go fishing."

"Later is now, young man," Rumple ordered. "Come here and finish them."

Sulking, the boy dragged himself back to the table. "I _hate_ long division! Why do I have to learn math anyway? I'm not gonna need it to kill giants and monsters," he grumbled.

"Won't you? Even heroes need to learn math, lad," Rumple said, this was familiar territory. His youngest son detested being inside and studying, they had this same argument almost every day. "Ask your Uncle Jeff about needing to know troop movements and military tactics."

Jack looked up at Jefferson, who was seated at the other end of the table, calmly polishing his sword. "Uncle Jeff, is that true? Does a soldier really need to learn math?"

Jeff set down the rag he was using. "Jack, buddy, your papa's right with that one. If I didn't know how to multiply, divide, add, and subtract, I'd be a sorry commander when I had to take my men out to practice maneuvers."

"You would?" Jack looked astonished. "I thought all a warrior needed to know was how to swing a sword."

"Only if he was just a soldier, but if you want to be a commander, Jack, you have to know how to divide your forces, and count how many of the enemy you face, and decide how many men you need to scout and how many you need to guard your camp. A good commander always knows approximately how many of the enemy are there and how many of his own forces are needed to contain them."

"What about monsters?"

"Well, how would you know how many arrows or sword thrusts are needed to kill one if you can't multiply?" Jefferson replied.

"Oh," Jack said, finally seeing the light. "Okay. I'll do these dumb problems!" He picked up his pencil again.

Rumple sat near him, offering a few pointers. Jack would never be a star pupil, his teachers at school had a hard enough time getting the boy to sit still in class, but Rumple knew the boy wasn't stupid, far from it. He just had a hard time concentrating unless the subject was one he wanted to learn. "Jack, how many fish will you need to catch for dinner today?"

"Um . . . ten, one for each of us and Uncle Jeff," he replied promptly.

"Correct. And how many would you need to feed twice that?"

Jack quickly added ten twice in his head and came up with, "Twenty."

"Good! Now do you see what I'm talking about?"

"Yes, sir."

Rumple patted him on the shoulder. "If you finish up those last five problems, you'll have plenty of time to go fishing this afternoon."

Given that incentive, Jack set to work with a will, determined to get in the promised fishing trip before dinner time and chores.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Jack watched as Ivy prepared the fish he had caught, mostly trout and silver fluke, for dinner that night. He had cleaned them and she only had to remove the bones and skin one side of them before brushing them with olive oil, lemon, pepper, oregano, garlic, and some coarse sea salt. Then she set them in a pan to bake.

"Those are some really nice fish, Jack. I'm sure that Belle will like them for supper, along with my biscuits and roast goose and stuffing with cranberries," Ivy said.

"You making anything else?"

"Of course. Roast parsnips and tomato salad with goat cheese," Ivy replied. "And something special for dessert. I think . . .I think Papa's going to pop the question tonight."

"What question?"

Ivy rolled her eyes. "The one where she says "I do" at the end, duh!"

Jack looked horrified. "You mean, he wants to _marry_ her?"

"Yes. I think he loves her."

"Aww, yuck! Love's like a disease. Once you catch it, you're sick forever!"

"Who told you that, little brother?"

"Heard Manuelo the archer down at the Goose say it."

Ivy frowned. "Jack, you know Papa doesn't like you hanging out there, listening to all those retired mercs. You're not even old enough to drink yet."

"How else am I supposed to learn how to go adventuring, Ivy?" Jack protested. "I'm sure not gonna learn how to kill monsters up here at the castle."

"Some of those sellswords never even saw a giant or a goblin in their lives, you can't trust what they tell you," Ivy said dismissively.

"Can too! At least they're not dumb enough to fall in love," Jack sneered.

Ivy's eyes flashed. "Don't you call Papa dumb! You take that back, Jack Gold! Before I tan your hide with my wooden spoon."

"You wouldn't dare! You're not my mother!"

Ivy glared at him. "See, that's why you need one. Because you don't know how to behave . . . or to respect your elders. Papa's the smartest man I know, a lot smarter than all those sellswords down at the tavern you admire so much."

Jack lowered his head, realizing he shouldn't have said what he did. "Okay, I'm sorry! We both know Papa's not dumb. He's a lot smarter than I'll ever be. That's why I'm mad at him for thinking he needs a wife."

"But Jack, Papa's happy with Belle," Ivy argued. "She's smart too, and a man gets lonely sometimes."

"He has us. Aren't we good enough anymore?"

"Yes, but . . . it's different when you're a grown-up. They need . . . companions."

Jack kicked the counter. "We don't need a mother, Ivy. That's what you're here for."

"Well, I won't be forever!" Ivy tossed her head. "Someday I might go off to the city and become a librarian or run a cooking school or something. I want a life too, you know, Mr. Giant Slayer!"

"But Ivy, if you're gone . . . who's going to tell Jasmine and Clary what to do?"

"That's why we need someone like Belle," Ivy stated. "She knows how to raise kids better than I do. Hells bells, I'm not even seventeen yet! Papa knows that, Jack."

"But if she comes . . . then so do her kids. I don't want them cluttering up the castle and following me around. It's bad enough when Clary does it. I don't want things to change."

Ivy sighed. "You need to stop thinking about you, Jack, and start thinking about Papa. About what he needs."

"What does he need?"

"Gods, you're oblivious! Boys!" Ivy rolled her eyes. "He needs someone to love him. The way my mom never did."

Jack started laughing. "You girls and all your stupid talk about love! Uncle Jeff doesn't have a girl and he's perfectly fine with it."

"That's because Uncle Jeff hasn't met the right girl yet. When he does, you'll see him change quicker than blue lightning."

"No way. Uncle Jeff will never let some girl talk him into marrying. And I won't let Papa either."

"What do you mean, you won't _let_ him? How're you going to stop him?" Ivy frowned.

Jack shrugged. "Maybe because there's no one for him to marry."

"Don't talk nonsense, Jack. Belle's right there, and mark my words, she wants him as much as he wants her."

"Now she does. But what about later?"

"Jack, what are you plotting?" Ivy asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," he answered, trying to act all innocent.

Ivy wasn't fooled. "Jack, you're an idiot. If you do anything to hurt Belle, Papa'll skin you."

"I wouldn't hurt her. Not like that! I don't hurt girls!" Jack objected. "I just . . . want to make her leave."

"Whatever you're going to do—don't. You'll get in so much trouble you'll be weeks getting out of it again."

"It'd be worth it if Papa doesn't marry her," was all her brother said.

Ivy just shook her head. "Sometimes, little brother, you're your own worst enemy."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

By the time Belle showed up at the castle, Jack, Tom, and Finn had it all worked out. They weren't going to take this lying down. They were going to do their best to convince their father that Belle—that _any_ woman—was totally unsuitable to be in this family. None of them could understand why Belle would even _want_ to be in a family with eighteen children! It was crazy!

"But Ariel's cool," Finn remarked as they watched Belle coming through the door and being greeted by their father. "She can sing the best of anybody I've ever heard."

"Will you please stop talking about Ariel?" Jack snapped. "What are you, in love with her?"

Finn glared at him. "She's my music partner, dumbass! Learn the difference."

"Shh!" Tom ordered. "They're coming this way."

Jack hid a grin behind his hand. "Okay, let's do it like I planned."

"This had better work," Tom said.

Finn sighed. "I don't know, Jack. I . . ."

"You can't back out now, Finn!" Jack protested. "What are you, a sissy?"

Finn cocked a fist. "Say that again, and I'll slam you one."

"Okay, I was only kidding! Now come on," Jack hissed. They went downstairs.

Since Jefferson was also here for dinner, he thought it might be good if they started off the appetizers with some cocktails. "What's your drink of choice, Belle?"

Belle looked faintly surprised, then said gamely, "Well, you see, I don't drink too much. I'm a Healer, so we like to keep a cool head as much as possible. But . . . sometimes I like a cranberry spritzer."

"Uh huh. On the light side, yeah," Jefferson said. "Why don't you sit down and I'll get us all something. Rum, you've got some whiskey, right?"

"Yes, it's all in the cabinet in the den, Jeff. But none for me, you know why I don't drink," Rumple said, taking Belle and escorting her to her seat in the dining room.

Ivy had just brought in the first course of appetizers, mini toast points with fresh tomatoes, garlic, and onions.

"Why don't you drink?" Belle asked Rumple curiously.

"My magic, dearie. Alcohol and magic practitioners don't mix well at all."

"Oh. That's also why I don't—" Belle began. As a Healer she had some small magical talent, enough to heal minor wounds and make potions and treatments more effective.

"Here, Rum," Jeff said, returning with his glass of whiskey and Rum's ale. "I'm going to get yours in a second, Belle."

But while he was out of the room, the three boys had crept inside and saw the glass of cranberry juice sitting on the top of the small bar.

"Quick!" Jack whispered. "Get the rum, Finn. And the whiskey!"

"Don't forget the gin!" Tom urged, keeping an eye out for anyone coming.

Finn and Jack got out a bottle of rum and a bottle of gin, the whiskey was already sitting on the counter. "How much do we put in?" Finn asked Jack.

"I don't know. I never made anything like this before. I just saw Mike do it," Jack replied. He poured a measure of rum into the cranberry juice.

Finn added some whiskey.

Jack topped it off with gin.

"Quick! Uncle Jeff's coming!" Tom warned.

Finn shoved the bottles back in the cabinet and ducked behind the sofa in the den. Jack quickly followed with Tom, since there was no time to get out of the room.

Jefferson returned, eyed the glass of cranberry juice, then went and found some coconut flavored liquor and said, "Ah! Now just a little, for taste." He added it to the glass. Then he took the glass and went back out to where Belle and Rumple were sitting.

The boys smirked at each other and gave each other high fives. The plan was working magnificently.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was enjoying eating the appetizers with Rumple and taking small sips of her drink, which she thought was a little strong, but she didn't want to complain. Then Ivy brought out some crispy bread and some olive oil and spices to dip the bread in. It was rather salty, so Belle drank almost the whole glass Jefferson had given her.

"Mmm . . . this is superb, Rum! I'll have to get the recipe from Ivy," Belle was saying as she ate some more bread.

"You can ask Ivy that any time, dearie," Rumple said, growing excited as the hour finally approached. He planned to ask her when dessert was served, having Ivy set aside a small ramekin of crème brulee so he could put the ring inside it.

Now the rest of the children joined them and Ivy as well, so magic was used to keep the plates and forks going back and forth to the kitchen, and new dishes were introduced as soon as they were put on platters by Elaina and Jasmine, who decided to give Ivy a break and serve.

Finn, Jack, and Tom all plunked themselves down at the table in their usual spots, and Bae came in with Clary, he'd been giving her a riding lesson on Rogue. Both of them were glad to see Belle, and Bae asked how Rennie was doing.

"Oh, she's fine. Helping me tonight by watching the little ones. She and I baked some blueberry pies for dessert," Belle said, smiling. She felt a little warm. Actually, a lot warm, but when she touched her forehead, it was cold. "Goodness, it's hot in here!"

"That could be from the oven," Ivy said. "The heat . . . it radiates sometimes."

"Yes, of course," Belle nodded. She gently wiped her forehead with a napkin.

If she didn't know better, she'd think she was coming down with something.

Elaina brought out the main course, and Jasmine the side dishes.

"Everything looks delicious!" Jefferson exclaimed. "I love the roast goose."

"I caught the fish!" Jack said loudly.

"Yes, he's quite the fisherman, our Jack," Rumple said proudly.

"I love fish," Belle said. "And this looks so . . . wonderful." She took the platter from Rumple, wondering why it seemed like there was so many fish on it. She blinked and managed to take some, then she passed the plate to Bae.

The dishes were passed around the table, as Jasmine and Elaina sat down to eat as well, and Belle swore she could feel the room spinning about like a top. But of course that was ridiculous. Unless this was a magic room. Yes, that would be likely in a magician's castle.

She watched, puzzled, as the plates seemed to revolve about the table. She took a bite of the fish before it jumped off her plate. It tasted as good as it smelled, but wasn't the fish supposed to be dead?

Bae passed her the plate of goose, neatly carved, and she stabbed a piece with her fork . . . or thought she did. "Oops! Missed!" she said, giggling a little. For some reason her fork wasn't cooperating.

Rumple blinked. "Here, dearie!" he said, and speared a piece of meat for her. "You seem to be having a bit of trouble."

"Yes. The food . . . it's moving," Belle chattered, feeling herself start to grin.

Ivy stared down the table at their guest. How odd, she thought. Belle seemed almost . . . giddy.

"Would you like some salad?" asked Bae politely, passing the tomato and goat cheese salad over to Belle.

"Oh, yes! I love salad. Fresh from the garden!" Belle said brightly, and took some salad and plopped it down on her plate.

Clary tugged on her sleeve, as she was seated next to her tonight. "I like that! Can I have some too?"

"Certainly," Belle said, then hunted for the spoon in the bowl. It was quivering. She managed to grab it and scooped up some tomato salad. "Coming right up!"

Then the spoon did the strangest thing. It twisted in her hand and instead of putting the salad on Clary's plate, she dumped it in Clary's lap!

Clary stared down at the salad in her lap. "Oh, no! My new dress!" she wailed, as the oil soaked into the pink fabric.

"Oh!" Belle gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Did . . . did I do that?"

"Well, it sure wasn't Bae!" Jack said, then burst out laughing.

Clary started to sniffle, now she was wet and her dress was filthy and she thought Jack was laughing at her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Belle apologized. She felt so very odd. Like she wasn't all there. She tried to help Clary clean up her dress, but succeeded in only smearing the mess all over.

Rum stood up. "Belle, don't worry. Ivy, can you take Clary upstairs and get her some new clothes? Clary, don't cry, dearie. It'll come out in the wash."

As Ivy went and picked up Clary, who was now sobbing in embarrassment, Belle looked about her and said weakly, "I'm so sorry, Rum. It . . . was an accident . . . you know . . . like a mistake . . ." Her tongue was thick in her mouth, like she'd been eating cotton. "I'm sorry . . . it's really not funny . . ."

Then to her horror, she burst out laughing.

"I just . . . whoops! There it went!" she tried to explain, struggling to stop laughing.

"Belle? Are you . . . all right?" Rum asked, concerned. This behavior was not like the Belle he'd known.

"Fine! I'm fine, darling!" she waved at him. "This . . . thesesh things happen . . ." she found she couldn't talk anymore without slurring. "I . . . really don't know what's wrong with me!" Sudden tears started from her eyes.

"If I didn't know better . . ." Rumple began. he glanced sideways at Jefferson. "Jeff, what in hell did you put in her drink?"

"I . . . hardly anything, Rum!" Jefferson protested. "Just a little bit of coconut liquor, I swear it!"

"Then why is she acting like she's . . . drunk?" Rumpelstiltskin demanded.

"Maybe cause she is!" Jack sang out, and burst out laughing. Then he nudged Finn and Tom, who sat on either side of him, and they both started giggling too.

"Stop it, guys!" Bae snapped. "It's not funny!"

"Oh, yes, it is!" Jack giggled. "Who wants a stepmother who gets drunk off a little bit of whiskey?"

"Whiskey?" Jefferson frowned. "I had whiskey, not Belle."

Rumplestiltskin picked up Belle's empty glass and sniffed it. Amid the slight tang of cranberry juice he smelled a whiff of hard liquor. "Jeff! Did you put whiskey in this? Because it smells like it!"

"No. Why would I?"

Rumple set the glass down.

Belle was half-crying and laughing, trying to pick up tomato salad with her fork and failing miserably. "I . . . don't understand, Rum . . . I feel all . . . strange and the room is spinning . . . round and round like a top!"

He looked at her, stunned, and then it dawned on him, a flash of magical insight. He spun around and saw guilty looks on Finn, Tom, and Jack's faces for an instant before they were snickering into their hands. "You!" he cried, his finger pointing. "You did this! All _three_ of you!"

Jack gulped audibly, his mind racing frantically. How did his father know? "Umm . . . well . . . we . . . uh . . . thought it'd be funny . . ."

"A joke?" Rumple snapped. "This is no laughing matter, boy! Getting a magical Healer drunk! My gods!"

"We didn't mean it!" Finn cried, knowing quite well that alcohol and magic usually didn't mix. At all.

"It was Jack's idea," Tom muttered, trying to hide behind Jack's glass as all of his siblings and Jefferson cast him looks of extreme disappointment.

"Get out!" Rumplestiltskin ordered sharply. "Go up to my study! At once! I'll deal with you in a few moments!"

The three bolted away up the stairs, anxious to get out of their father's sight. None of them had ever heard that tone from their father before, and they were sure they were dead.

"What's going on?" Belle queried, trying to stand up.

She wobbled so badly she fell over . . . but Rumple caught her and pulled her into his lap.

"Easy there, dearie!"

"My, what strong arms you have!" Belle giggled, looking up at him.

Rumple cleared his throat, embarrassed for her, and furious at his three sons. As he held her, he felt the familiar sensation of magic spiral through him. Belle's magic . . . despite—or perhaps because of—her inebriated state, was rousing.

"Rum, what can I do to help?" Jeff asked, concerned. "How much did she drink?"

"I don't know how much the boys put in there, but strong liquor causes a magic wielder's powers to go crazy sometimes."

"Regina's never seemed to."

"It's different for everyone. A Healer's magic is the subtlest of all, I didn't even feel it until now. And with this much alcohol in her . . . there's no telling what she could do. If she tries to heal someone or something now . . . she could mistakenly kill them . . ."

"Why don't we just put her to bed and let her sleep it off?" Jefferson suggested.

Belle reached out to touch Rumple's face, purring, "Ooh, Rum! I'm so warm! Do I have a fever? What big eyes you have, dearie!"

He caught her hand in his. "Belle . . . damn it, she's burning up all of a sudden! It must be her magic's reaction to the alcohol."

"What's that mean, Papa?" asked Bae worriedly.

"It means it's too strong for her system to handle. It's like a poison in her. Bae, go down to my lab and get me one of my vials of antidote. Quick now! Here's the key!"

As Bae took the key and bolted, Belle blinked feverishly. "Rum . . . everything feels so strange . . . are you holding me?"

"Yes, dearie. I'm right here."

"Good! I love your arms around me . . ." she began to laugh again.

"Yes, I know, but you're not going to love me after I make you take this potion . . ." Rumple sighed.

Jefferson made Elaina and Jasmine, who were wide-eyed, go outside and feed the animals. As Bae returned with the vial, Jefferson went and got a large bowl. He was familiar with that potion, having had it himself once before, and he knew they would need the bowl.

Rumple propped Belle against his shoulder and tried to coax her into swallowing the potion.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Upstairs in Rumplestiltskin's study, three very naughty boys huddled together in separate chairs waiting for their father to arrive. All of them were pale and shivering.

"Good idea, Jack! Now we're all going to be walloped into next week, thanks to you!" Finn snapped. His fingers twisted about themselves in a nervous dance.

"I . . . I didn't know one drink would do that!" Jack cried. "I didn't know she had magic!"

"Oh my gods, we're so dead!" Tom moaned. "Finn, will he really spank us?"

"No, he'll pat us on the head and say, good going, lads!" Finn rolled his eyes. "Think, genius! Did he look happy to you?"

"N-No. But he doesn't usually . . ." Tom whimpered.

"This time he will," Finn sighed. "Just like he did the time I made Mattie Raynor nearly dance herself sick. At least he will me and Jack. I don't know about you, Tom, because how can you spank someone who's three and a quarter inches tall without killing them?"

"He'll find a way . . . I guess," Tom said miserably.

"Did he . . . use a stick or something that time, Finn?" asked Jack.

"No, stupid! Just his hand," Finn growled irritably. "But at least he hugged me afterwards."

"Why?" asked Jack.

"Because I guess he felt bad about spanking me," his older brother sighed.

"Then why'd he do it in the first place?"

"Because I deserved it!" Finn looked at his brother, scowling. "This is all your fault, Jack! I knew I shouldn't have listened to you. I could have been down there, having a nice dessert and everything and instead I'm up here with you, waiting for Papa to come and beat my ass. Good going, smart guy!"

Jack hung his head. "Sorry, Finn." He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was about ten minutes since they'd come up there. "I wish he'd just come up here and get it over with."

"Don't be in a hurry to go to your own funeral," Tom said gloomily.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple wiped Belle's lips gently with a wet cloth and said softly, "Do you feel better now, dearie?"

Belle nodded. "Yes. That potion . . . it worked."

"But it makes you feel like hell afterwards," Jefferson sympathized.

"I'm sorry I made you sick," the sorcerer apologized. "But too much alcohol is like a poison in a magic wielder's system."

"I know. It's why I hardly ever drink," Belle said, slowly sitting up. "How did I get drunk anyway?"

"My boys . . . they thought they were playing a prank on you," Rumple said heavily. His eyes flashed. "They'll soon learn the joke is on them."

"Rum . . ." Belle put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be too harsh on them. It was just a joke."

"They could have killed you!"

"But they didn't know that."

"Do you expect me to let them get away with this?"

"No . . . just . . . remember that when you punish them."

Still angry, but willing to listen to Belle's advice, Rumple left Bae to get her a cup of tea and Jefferson to keep her company while he went to the study to deal with his disobedient brats.

When he opened the door to the study, he found three anxious regretful boys on the other side. He shut the door with a bang and limped over to his desk, leaning heavily on his cane. This was _not_ the evening he'd had in mind when he'd arranged this dinner. He slowly turned around to face his three sons.

"I ought to wallop the daylights out of all of you," he began, pointing his cane at each of them. They flinched. He lowered the cane and said, in a somewhat calmer tone, "But I won't. Want to know why? Because _she_—the woman you played that cruel joke on—asked me not to."

Jack looked at the floor. Hearing that made him feel terrible.

"Whose idea was this?"

"It was mine, sir," Jack admitted.

"But Tom and I went along with it," Finn said guiltily.

"We were stupid." Tom said.

"Yes, you were. I'm terribly disappointed in all of you. You all know better. Is this how you treat a guest in my home?"

"No, Papa."

"What you did was not only stupid and wrong, but dangerous. Alcohol can be a poison to some magicians. Finn, you ought to know that."

"Yes, sir. But I . . . didn't know Belle had magic."

"Well, she does. Not as much as you or me, but enough for alcohol to affect her badly. What you three did was plain wrong, and if I had my way, you'd all be over my knee. But . . . Belle asked me not to, so this is my alternative. You will all apologize to her for spiking her drink . . . and each of you will be grounded for two weeks. That means—no flute for you, Finn, no rides and fishing, Jack, and no puzzles and games for you, Tom. You'll all have double chores and an early bedtime too. And you'd better never do anything so foolish again, am I clear?"

They all nodded, ashamed.

As they made their way downstairs, Jack whispered to Finn, "I feel like I should have been spanked too. He went easy on us . . . because she asked him. It makes me feel lower than a worm."

"Me too," Finn said. "Next time you want to spike somebody's drink, leave me out of it."

"Yeah. Belle's not so bad," said Tom.

Belle looked up and saw the three boys coming over to her. They were red-faced and couldn't look her in the eye, but she wasn't sure if Rumplestiltskin had taken her advice.

"We're sorry, Mistress Belle," Jack began, half-mumbling.

"For what?" asked Belle, though she knew perfectly well what for.

"For spiking your drink," Jack admitted. "I'm sorry I put rum in your cranberry juice."

"I'm sorry I put whiskey in it," Finn said.

"I'm sorry I told them to put in the gin," Tom said.

"You put all _that_ in her drink?" gasped Jefferson.

"Belle, you've been the victim of an alcoholic version of the Ogre Wars," Rumple stated, limping up behind them. "You're lucky you survived."

"I can see that," Belle said softly. "I hope you'll never do that again."

"No, ma'am," all three murmured, hanging their heads.

"Good, because next time you could kill someone," she added, with a touch of sternness.

The three looked like they wanted to sink into the floor.

Rumple leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "You do guilt trips better than I do, dearie. You had them practically on their knees."

"I've had more practice," she whispered back. Then she said, "But I forgive you."

"Go call your sisters, Finn," Rumple ordered suddenly.

Finn obeyed, running upstairs to find Clary and Ivy. Elaina and Jasmine came in from outside.

"Bae, bring me the crème brulee off to the side on the kitchen counter," Rumple said.

When Bae brought the small ramekin out, Rumple took it and passed a hand over it. He grabbed a spoon off the table and handed it to Belle. "Eat up, dearie."

Belle stared at the dessert in dismay. "But Rum . . . after all that I . . . I'm not even hungry . . ."

"Just a taste, dearie."

Belle took the spoon and dug into the rich custard with the browned sugar top. As she brought the spoon to her mouth, she saw something glinting in the custard. She carefully removed a diamond ring from the dessert. "Oh! It's beautiful, Rum!" she gasped.

He took her hand and guided the ring onto her left finger.

"Will you do me the honor, Belle, of becoming my wife?" he asked tenderly, half-kneeling before her.

"I will, Rum," she answered. "Though I can't believe you just asked me to marry you after I threw up all over you."

He laughed, kissing her hand. "Well, I did, dearie. And nobody put anything in _my_ drink."

"I guess that's one way to propose," Jefferson grinned. "Congratulations, both of you."

"Thank you, Jeff. Now will you do me the honor of being my best man?" asked the sorcerer.

"Thought you'd never ask," Jefferson chuckled. "When's the wedding?"

"As soon as I can make a dress," Belle answered. "And tell my children."

"We all need new dresses," Ivy said, somewhat dismayed.

"Then I guess I'd better get spinning, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said, then he kissed Belle, making some of the children groan and some of them cheer.

**A/N: Okay, so this is the chapter with the famous drunk scene from the movie. Hope I did it justice! What did you think?**


	9. Picnic Guest

**9**

**Picnic Guest**

Belle fell asleep as soon as she arrived home, so she didn't have time to show her children the betrothal ring or tell them about the upcoming wedding until the next morning. She waited until they had completed their morning chores and eaten breakfast before she gathered them all together in the combination kitchen and family room.

"So, how did it go last night, Mom?" Rennie queried eagerly. She hoped it had gone well, for she wanted her mother to have the love of a good man for once, like she did with Bae. Her father had been a charlatan and no-good pretender, he'd promised Belle forever and then chased after anything in skirts who beckoned. Rennie had been young, but she still recalled the humiliating titters of the other maids-of-honor when they thought her mother couldn't hear, and the whispers about court, and the sad looks of some of the servants. She hadn't really understood what it had all meant back then, but she did now, and she detested her father's philandering ways with a passion.

To her relief, Belle was smiling. "Well, at first it was a bit of . . . a fiasco, but then end turned out better than I imagined."

"What went wrong?" Rafe queried. "Was the food not good?"

Belle shook her head. "The food was superb, those children can cook, especially the eldest girl, Ivy. It was . . . umm . . . something that happened beforehand that got to me. Rum's three younger boys . . . they decided to play a prank on me . . . they spiked what was supposed to be a mild spritzer with . . . three different kinds of alcohol."

Rafe gaped at her. "Are you saying . . . you got _drunk_, Mom?"

Rennie gasped. "But Mom, you're not supposed to . . ."

"I know, dear. I haven't been that drunk since I divorced your father," Belle admitted. "I was three sheets to the wind and totally puzzled as to how I got there. Luckily Rum figured it out and gave me a curative before it went too far."

"Thank goodness!" Aurora said. "What little brats!"

"Did they get in trouble?" Nick asked.

"I'll bet they got a good thrashing," Rafe nodded.

"Um . . . well . . . I didn't want Rum to be too harsh with them-they didn't know I had magic, you see, and I didn't want them to hate me . . . so I convinced him to do something else to them . . . though I have no idea what it was."

"You're growing soft, Mom," Rafe snorted. "If Peter, Nick, and I'd done that you'd have taken a spoon to our backsides sure enough."

"True . . . but they were honestly sorry afterwards."

"What else happened?" asked Kristen, thinking that was just one more reason not to marry into the Gold family.

"Well, we had dessert . . . and I found this in my crème brulee." Belle showed them the diamond ring on her finger.

Rennie grinned. "Oh, Mom! How wonderful! He proposed!"

"Let me see!" Aurora cried. She half-shoved Rennie out of the way to examine the ring. "It's gorgeous! A real diamond, not paste. Ooh, how romantic!"

"Did you say yes, Mom?" asked Phillip hopefully.

"I did, Phillip. And we'll have to start making my dress. Aurora and Rennie, I'll need your help. And we'll need new clothes for the rest of you too."

"Looks like we're going to be real busy for the next couple of weeks, Kris," Aurora said to Kristen, who was great at sewing, having sewn costumes for her circus troope.

Kristen looked startled, like someone had just died. "You're really going to . . . _marry_ him, Mom?"

"Yes, Goldilocks, I am," Belle affirmed, calling her daughter by a nickname she had invented years before. "I love him and he loves me. And we're going to be one big happy family."

"Ugh! That's eighteen kids, Mom!" cried Nick. "It's like . . . a village!"

"Crazy!" added Nora.

"I don't know if I want a father," June whimpered. "What if he's mean?"

"Or scary?" Nora whined.

"Children, Rum is none of those things. Once you get to know him, I'm sure you'll like him just fine," Belle tried to ally her children's worries.

But they didn't look all that convinced.

"Does he like to hunt?" asked Peter curiously. "I always wanted a papa that could hunt with me, like Rafe does."

"I just want a father, period," Phillip said, hugging his gray and white cat, Puss.

"Will he teach me how to spin faster?" asked Aurora. "I heard he was a master."

"I'm sure he will, Aurora. And I think he'll be a much better role model for you children than . . . my previous husband."

Rafe snorted. "Mom, a goat was a better role model than _him_. The only thing he was good for was turning a girl's head."

"Does Rum turn _your_ head, Mom?" asked Ariel curiously.

Belle laughed. "For sure he does, dearie. Like a top!"

"We'll have to get started on the dress right away, Rory," Rennie said decisively.

"I'll get my pattern books."

"Does this mean I got to wear fancy clothes that itch to the wedding?" Phillip groaned. "Cause then I might as well stay home."

"Me too! I don't want to go to no wedding!" Nick said obstreperously.

"I don't like a lot of people!" Nora said, she was shy.

"Children! Listen to me. The wedding is still several weeks away. While the older girls and I are working on the clothes, why don't I see if Rum can come over here and get to know you all better? Then maybe you won't feel so awkward or afraid once you see that he's not a nasty sorcerer who eats little kids for breakfast."

"Sounds pretty good to me, Mom," Rafe said.

"What can we do with him, Mom? I don't have magic," Peter pointed out.

"You don't need to have magic, Peter, to be with Rumplestiltskin. Not all of his children do," Belle said. "Rafe, what if you . . . took him along with some of the younger kids on one of your woodland jaunts? It would give you a chance to get to know him and provide supper for the table."

"Sort of like a hunt and a picnic?" Rafe clarified. "Sure, I can do that. Who would be coming?"

"I would!" Peter volunteered immediately.

"Me too, Rafe!" Phillip cried.

"I think the twins should go too, and Kristen, if we can spare you," Belle said. "I know how much you enjoy being outside."

Kristen didn't protest, but she felt rather sick, being forced to spend time with a sorcerer. She glanced at the twins. Unless there was a way . . . a way to make Rumplestiltskin change his mind.

"I don't like seeing anything get killed," June said. "I can help sew."

Belle looked at her delicate little girl and said, "You can stay here, Junie. I'm sure Aurora will have plenty of buttons for you to sew on. Rafe, would you mind going over to the castle and giving Rum this note from me?" Belle asked, writing rapidly on a piece of parchment.

"Sure, Mom," Rafe agreed, thinking he might even see Elaina while he was there.

Belle shooed the rest of the children outside to play or read quietly while she took Rennie, Aurora, Ariel, and June upstairs to look through dress fabrics and patterns.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rafe gave the note to Finn, since Rumplestiltskin was making more potions in his lab. After the sandy-haired boy had gone, Rafe crept around the side of the castle, hoping to catch a glimpse of Elaina. To his delight, he found her picking some lettuces, fancy green ones that he knew were called rapunzel, they had a crisp texture and a little sharpness to their bite.

"Hey," he called softly. "That's a halfway decent crop of rapunzels there."

Elaina looked up, she was wearing a kerchief to keep the dirt out of her hair, and smiled when she saw the tall hunter. "Hello, Rafe! Do you like rapunzel? It's my favorite kind of lettuce. I love them in a fresh green salad, and Ivy always makes the most wonderful sesame dressing to put on it." She stuffed another lettuce in her basket.

"I don't mind 'em," Rafe replied. "But I like them with onions stewed with a roast haunch of venison."

"Do you eat a lot of deer?"

"Sometimes. When I can get one," Rafe said modestly. "Mom likes vegetables and bread, but you need meat for growing kids, and it seems like our family's growing bigger every day."

"Did your mother tell you . . . about the proposal?" Elaina asked warily.

"Uh huh. Although it's kind of strange . . . her marrying again after what happened with my father."

"What did happen? Did he die?"

"Hardly. It would have been better if he had," Rafe said bitterly. "Instead he cuckolded my mother with one of her attendants. She found them in bed together when she came back from a council meeting."

Elaina's face flamed. "Gods and hells! That must have been awful!"

"It was. Especially because my father had promised he would be faithful to her, the deceitful scoundrel! Mom wasn't always a Healer, she used to be heir to the throne of Avonlea, before it was sacked by trolls. Bu that happened after my father betrayed her. The whole court was talking about it for days and she was so mad and hurt that she divorced him a week later. He left then, him and his pretty little trollop, and we never saw him again. I've never forgiven him for it."

"I'm sorry, Rafe. But you needn't worry about that with my father. You see, sort of the same thing happened to him with his first wife—Ivy and Bae's mom. Only she ran off with a pirate and said he was a coward for not wanting to fight in the duke's wars with the ogres. So he'd never do that to Belle. Once he gives his word, it's forever."

Rafe looked relieved. "That's good to know, Elaina. I was worried. I don't want my mom getting her heart broken again."

"I understand." She tucked the last rapunzel into her basket and stretched.

"Would you like to take a walk in the woods?" Rafe suggested. "It's cooler there."

"Why not?" Elaina said. "I'm going to put these inside where it's cool, then I'll come back out."

Rafe waited happily while Elaina ran inside with the rapunzels, then when she came out, he took her arm graciously and they walked together into the short stand of trees just to the north of the horse pasture.

As they walked through the woods, Rafe came upon a glittering rock. It had chips of mica and striated green bands in it. "Here, Elaina. It reminds me of your eyes." He held out the rock for her inspection.

"Oh, it's really pretty!" Elaina exclaimed, touched by his thoughtfulness. "I can string it on a cord and wear it like a pendant."

Rafe flushed. "It's just a pebble." He wished he had something better to give her, like an emerald.

"It's special. It was probably lying here for a hundred years just waiting for you to find it." Elaina said, cupping it in her hand.

Rafe laughed. "I wish I could give you a real jewel."

"I've had real jewels before, Rafe. Back when I was a spoiled brat in my palace, before I came to live with Papa and my siblings. They didn't do anything but sparkle and make people jealous. They're not any better than this. In fact, I like this rock much better, because it has its own beauty."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes. My papa taught me to see the true worth of things."

"You're something else, Elaina," Rafe smiled. "Most girls I know would have begged me to find them some buried treasure or lots of jewels."

"I'm not most girls, Rafe. I might live in a castle, but there are things I value more than gold. Like my family."

"Me too," Rafe said, and they continued walking quietly, enjoying the sunshine, the cool breeze, and each other's company.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple agreed to meet Rafe and a few of Belle's younger children on a combination picnic and hunt that Friday. He asked Ivy if she wouldn't mind putting a few sandwiches together, along with some pickles, fruit, and homemade oatmeal cookies. To that Belle added fried chicken, a bean salad, carrot sticks, cinnamon bread, and lemonade.

Rumple made the basket float alongside them, keeping his hands free to grab his knife if necessary or to cast a spell. Though the woods beside the village was relatively safe from brigands now, there still were four legged predators to worry about, like bears, boar, and even the occasional wolf.

Accompanying Rumple were Kristen, Rafe, Phillip, Peter, and the twins. Rafe scouted ahead, trying to find some deer sign. Phillip and Peter seemed content to trot along next to Rumple, and ask him questions about his magic.

Kristen walked beside Nora and Nick, and shot distrusting glances at the sorcerer. She whispered in Nick's ear, "We have to do something to stop this wedding. Unless you want a sorcerer for a stepfather."

"No way!" Nick scowled. "I ain't dumb like Phillip. But what can we do about it?"

"Well . . . I've heard he used to be a poor spinner a long time ago . . . and some say a coward too. Mom shouldn't have to put up with someone like that. So why don't we prove to her that he's not good enough to marry her?"

"How?" asked Nora. "He's not a spinner now, Kris. He's a sorcerer."

"But once a coward always a coward," Kristen stated. "Here's what we could do . . ."

Nikc's eyes widened. "That might work. After all, he doesn't know that Baron's harmless . . ."

"I've seen Hans run away when he sees Baron coming!" Nora giggled.

"And Hans is a hero, and too stupid to be scared of much," Kristen said. "But I'll bet Master Gold will take one look at Baron and go running back home with his tail between his legs."

"But we gotta wait till Pete and Rafe have gone hunting," Nick reminded her. "I'll take care of Phillip."

Rumple looked behind him to see how the other three kids were faring, and called, "Are you three all right?"

"Yes," Kristen said. "Just a little tired, sir."

"We'll stop when we find a good spot for a picnic," Rumple said. He looked at Nora. "Would you like me to carry you, dearie?"

Nora shook her head wordlessly.

"She can walk. She's not a baby!" Nick said sharply.

"Mind your mouth, Nicholas," Rafe called back. "Speak respectfully to your elders." Lately, his brother had gotten an attitude that made Rafe long to spank him.

Nick subsided, a sulky look on his face. Sometimes he wished Rafe weren't so bossy. He hoped they were going to reach the picnic spot soon. He was hungry and also eager to put the plan into action.

After about five more minutes of walking, Rumple found a suitable clearing amid a stand of white oak and birch. Nora and Kristen spread the picnic blanket their mother had packed on the ground and weighted it with some stones and the basket. As they spread the food out along with the plates, cups, and forks, Peter and Rafe searched the area for animal tracks.

Nick found a comfortable spot near the blanket and sat down. Rumplestiltskin also sat down, and Phillip, the traitor, sat next to him.

"Rafe! Pete!" Nora called. "Lunch is ready."

They came in then to eat.

Everyone feasted on the sandwiches and chicken, pickles, and salad, along with the cookies and bread. There was more than enough for everyone.

"Pete and I want to go look for some deer tracks," Rafe told Rumplestiltskin.

"I think I'd better stay here and watch the little ones," the sorcerer said. His leg throbbed a bit after walking such a ways and he needed to rest it. "You don't want them following and scaring away the game."

"Right. Nick and Nora don't know how to walk in the woods," Rafe said. "We'll be back in a bit." He vanished into the trees along with his shadow, Peter.

Nick pretended to yawn and said he was going to take a nap.

Phillip sat beside Rumple and said, "Do you know any good stories, Master Gold?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Rumple said. A story would keep the children occupied until their brothers came back. "Once upon a time, there lived a princess who had been locked in a tower . . ."

His voice, low and mellifluous, caused Nora to inch over next to him, despite her shyness. Phillip was already hanging on his every word, snuggled next to him.

While they were caught up in the story, Kristen moved over near the edge of the wood and began to call Baron with a soft whistle. He was trained to come at that signal, as had all the bears in the troope. Kristen knew he was nearby, he had been following them since they had left Shoe House.

She also knew that the smell of cinnamon bread would be too tantalizing for him to resist.

Soon the black bear lumbered into view, his small nose twitching as he smelled the sweet bread upon the blanket.

Kristen reached over and patted him, whispering, "Baron! Hup! Hup!"

That was the command for him to walk on his hind legs.

As the bear reared to over eight feet in height, Kristen backed away, then pointed towards the blanket where they bread sat . . . as did Rumple, Nora, Nick, and Phillip.

Baron strutted calmly over to the blanket, bawling softly as he reached for the bread.

Rumple jerked up, shock etching his features. "Great gods! A bear!" He groped for his cane and stood.

Kristen waited for him to turn and run as Baron came down and grabbed for the bread, whuffing.

Instead, he gestured for Nora, Nick, and Phillip to get behind him. "Quick, children! Back away slowly. Don't run. You'll only make him chase you."

Nick grabbed Phillip, who opened his mouth to call out to Baron, and put his hand over the younger boy's mouth. "Shh! Don't say a word!"

Phillip struggled as Nick dragged him backwards. Nora followed, looking rather amused.

Rumple stood his ground, extending a hand and calling on some of his magic. He had to make sure the children were safe, so he didn't cast a spell to harm, he didn't want the bear becoming angry and charging at them.

Instead he cast a spell to increase the amount of cinnamon bread on the blanket, letting the bear become distracted by the multiple loaves. As the bear gobbled the bread down, Rumple backed away, then began to cast a quick boundary spell to keep the bear where it was for now, until he could get the children away.

His heart was thudding in his chest, but he wasn't afraid for himself, but for the children he was responsible for. He looked up and saw Kristen at the edge of the clearing. "Come here, dearie!" he called softly. "He's eating, he won't run for you unless you startle him."

Kristen didn't move, seemingly paralyzed.

"Come, child. I need to close the circle."

"Please, don't hurt him!" Kristen cried. Suddenly she realized that her foolish plan could get her pet hurt, and that was the last thing she wanted. "He's just hungry!"

"Yes, I know. Now start walking over here." Rumple ordered. What a strange request. Then again, maybe she had a soft spot for animals, like his Jasmine.

Kristen bit her lip and started to walk towards him.

As she passed the blanket, Baron swung his head around, half a loaf still held in one paw, and huffed at her.

Thinking the bear was snarling at her, Rumple sent an illusionary bee across the clearing, right past Baron's nose, making the bear bawl and sneeze.

As the bear pawed at his nose, Nick yelped. "Oww! You _bit_ me!"

Phillip slipped free of his hold and ran over to Rumple, crying, "Master Gold! Don't magic him—he's not a wild bear!"

"What do you mean, boy?" Rumple demanded, frowning.

"That's Baron, sir! He's our bear . . . my sister's pet! He'd never hurt us! He's just a greedy guts and he loves to eat," Phillip tugged on his sleeve.

"He's perfectly tame, sir!" Kristen said, tears shimmering in her eyes. Only then did she see that she had been horribly mistaken about the sorcerer. He was no coward, and he was prepared to hurt her friend in order to save them. "I raised him from a cub."

Rumple lowered his hand. "Are you telling me you know this bear?"

"Yes, sir. He was part of a circus act once. Brownie, Barney, and Baron. The first two were his parents and they died in a fire. Please, sir, don't kill him!" Kristen pleaded.

Astonished, Rumplestiltskin said, "I wasn't planning on killing him, only on distracting him long enough for us to get away. I don't kill needlessly."

"Then you're not afraid?" Nick asked, shaking his hand, which bore teeth marks in it.

"I was afraid of you getting hurt, not of the bear," Rumple said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you think I was a coward, boy?"

Nick winced and shrank away from the sudden harsh tone.

"Ah . . . so you've heard those rumors, have you?" murmured the sorcerer. It figured. Even here, that damnable charge had followed him.

"He's no coward, Nick!" Phillip yelled. "And how come you were holding my mouth shut? I was just gonna tell him about Baron."

Rumple's eyes narrowed. This smacked of a conspiracy. He glanced from Nick, who looked sulky and guilty, Nora, who blushed and looked at the ground, and Kristen, who quickly glanced at Baron. Only Phillip met his eyes.

"So . . . you all knew this bear from the moment you saw it, but no one except Phillip was going to tell me?" he mused, sounding a trifle irritable. "Was it, perhaps, because you wanted to frighten me off?"

"Baron wouldn't have hurt you!" Nick said, looking ashamed.

"But he might have hurt Baron," Kristen said guiltily. She had never meant to put her faithful friend in danger. "I thought . . . maybe you were a coward, sir, like the rumors said . . ."

"And you shouldn't marry our mother," Nora hiccupped.

"So this was a trick, wasn't it?" Rumple demanded. "To see if I'd run away and leave you?" He cancelled the spell surrounding the bear.

"It was Nick's and my idea," Kristen admitted. "Pete, Rafe, and Phillip had nothing to do with it."

"_I_ was gonna tell you, until Nick held my mouth shut!" Phillip said indignantly. He glared at Nick. "You're so stupid, Nick! Mom told us to be nice to him and you try to scare him to death! Boy, are you in trouble when Mom finds out."

"Don't be a snitch, Phillip!" Nick snapped.

"What've you done now, Nick?" asked Rafe, coming out of the trees holding a string of rabbits. "Hey, what's Baron doing here?"

"He followed me," Kristen began.

"Rafe, they sicced him on Master Gold!" Phillip cried angrily. "They thought they could scare him off so Mom wouldn't marry him."

"Shut up!" Nick ordered.

"My gods!" Rafe scowled. "Mom's going to kill you when she finds out, little brother."

"It wasn't just me. Nora and Kristen helped," Nick argued.

"All of you are so dead," Peter predicted, holding a string of partridges in his hand.

"Except me," Phillip said. He turned to look at the bear, who was sniffling about for more bread. "Baron, quit that and go home!"

Baron made a sort of grunt, then turned and lumbered back into the trees.

Rumple gestured to the remains of the picnic. "Let's clean this up and go back home."

"We're going to go on ahead, sir," said Rafe. "Otherwise this meat will spoil in the heat. Come on, Pete."

"Me too, Rafe!" Phillip squealed.

Grinning, Rafe scooped him up and sat him on his shoulder. Then he walked rapidly down the trail.

Rumple watched as the chastened children finished putting everything back in the basket and was rather amused at the children's daring. Sending a bear after him! This could have ended in tragedy, if he hadn't kept his head. "Come, walk with me," he called to Kristen, who was red-faced and sniffling.

"I'm sorry. It was just a joke."

"A joke that could have had serious consequences," Rumple reprimanded. "For your pet and you. Had he attacked me, I might have killed him, thinking he meant me harm."

"I thought you'd run off, not stay and face him down," Kristen said.

"If I'd done that, who would have protected you?"

"I didn't need protection. Not from Baron."

"Ah, but I didn't know that," Rumple reminded her. "Does it bother you so much, that your mother is marrying me? I realize this is a big change for you . . . it is for both your mom and me as well. But if we compromise, we can work things out. Do you know what a compromise is?"

Kristen nodded. "It's when you make a deal where you and someone else agree to each bring something to the table."

"Yes, that's right, dearie. One compromise you and I can make is about keeping this bear in my castle."

"You mean, Baron can stay? Even after scaring you to death?"

"Yes. I won't fault the old fellow for doing what you said. However, he's your responsibility, and so is any mischief he gets into. I won't have a bear running amok in my home, clear?"

"Yes, sir." Kristen was amazed that the sorcerer was actually being understanding. "I . . . thought you'd want to magic me into a frog or something. That you'd be angry."

"I am slightly annoyed. But I expected something like this. And here's one thing I want to you to learn straight off—I don't magic my children, dearie. Not even when they misbehave. You will get scolded and have to do extra chores, grounded and have privileges revoked, and on rare occasions a spanking, but I don't use my magic to harm unless you threaten me or mine."

"Those sound like Mom's rules," Kristen remarked, feeling even worse.

"Your mom and I are much alike . . . in some ways. And I love her."

"But will you love her always? I mean, I thought my parents would too, but they didn't. They fought all the time, about everything. They were always quarreling and never happy. That's why I . . . was afraid."

Rum halted and put his hands on Kristen's shoulders. "Listen to me, dearie. It's when two people can't or won't compromise with each other that arguments happen. Or when one person tries to change another for their own good, but it's really for selfishness that trouble happens. Now, I won't promise you that your mother and I will never quarrel, it happens in the best of marriages, but we promised to always hear each other out and then go and think about things. We won't have a marriage like your parents did, Kristen. That's the last thing either of us want."

Sudden tears filled her blue eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rumplestiltskin! I messed everything up!"

"It's just a bump in the road, dearie. It'll smooth itself out. I think you need to explain all of this to your mother, so she knows why you did this."

Kristen blushed and dried her tears on the end of her apron. "She's going to be so mad. We promised to be good and we broke our word to her. I'm sure Phillip's already told her what went on."

"He's such a tattletale," Nick said. Then he came to stand by Rumple and said, "I'm sorry too. But it'll be worth a licking from ma just so I know my new pa's not a coward. Right, Nora?"

"Yes. We didn't want to hurt you, sir."

"I'll talk to her," Rumple said. "Because there's nothing you three could scheme up that will keep me from marrying her. You have my word on that."

And since a sorcerer's word binds, the children knew he meant it.

When they arrived back at Shoe House, they found Belle waiting in the yard, her hands on her hips, looking quite furious. Her three wayward scamps flinched and dragged their feet as they approached.

"Rum! I'm so glad you're all right!" she said in relief. Then her gaze hardened. "Though no thanks to you three! _What_ were you thinking? Setting a bear on him! Kristen, I thought you were the sensible one and now I find you're behind all of this . . .and Nick and Nora, didn't you promise you'd behave on this trip? You all ought to be spanked and sent to bed without supper, for starters."

All three started sniffling.

Rumple immediately approached and put an arm around her. "Simmer down, dearie. I know you're angry, and you have a right to be, but let me tell you a little story first . . ." He drew her off to the side and they spoke for several minutes.

"What's he doing?" whispered Nick to Kristen.

"He's saving our bottoms, little brother. Even though we don't deserve it. I was wrong about him."

"Then you want him as our pa now?" asked Nora.

Kristen spread her hands. "If we have to have one, he's better than most. And much better than my folks, trust me. He could have magicked Baron into mud or something, but he didn't. And he could have let mom lick us, but he's talking her out of it."

Nick looked doubtful. "Can he _do_ that? Even Rafe's never been able to."

"He's not her son, scamp." Kristen snorted. "And that's the big difference."

"I'm still not sure we need a pa. Or more brothers and sisters."

"Need 'em or not, we're going to have 'em," Kristen sighed. "So get ready."

"Your kids and my kids . . . between them they're going to drive us to drink, Rum," Belle sighed. "First yours try to get me drunk, and now mine try to make you run away. Will they ever get along?"

"Eventually. We'll work on it. We'll have to be a good example for them. Now, as you said to me that night . . .don't be too harsh on them. It was only a joke." He quirked a smile at her.

"I am going to punish them. They know better than this," Belle said sharply.

"Just think about what I said, dearie. Oh, and let's set a date for the wedding, before anything else goes wrong."

"How about two weeks from now? Next Saturday. Everyone's clothes should be done by then, including my dress."

"Yes, June's a good time. Elaina, Ivy, and I ought to be done as well." He kissed her hard. "Only a few more weeks, dearie. Now don't wear yourself to a frazzle. I'd best be getting back home, before mine dismantle the place. See you later, Belle!"

"Goodbye, Rum! And thank you for being so patient." She waved as he walked back up the path. Then she turned to face her disobedient offspring. "Rum tells me you've apologized to him for your insanity. He also told me something else, and I would like to add something to that. Kristen, not all marriages are the same, because no two people are the same. I had one bad marriage, but I promise you this one isn't like that. Rum is much more forgiving and willing to talk than Gaston ever was, and he's not one to run off with the first set of pretty eyes and leave me high and dry. And I love him, and that makes all the difference. For when you love someone, you see their side of things. Lucky for you, because he's convinced me not to paddle your behinds for your disgraceful behavior."

They all let out a sigh of relief.

"But . . . you're still in trouble," Belle lectured. She gave them extra chores, like cleaning the goat pen out twice a day and mopping the floor, weeding the garden, and for tonight, no dessert and an early bedtime.

She watched her miscreants trudge towards the house and thought, _Some days I feel like I can take on the world. Other days I feel like an old woman with too many children. But I have to trust Rum. We can make it work. Together. I just hope the castle survives._ Then she picked up her skirts and hurried inside. She still had to pick out trim for her wedding gown, but at least Rafe had taken care of supper tonight.

**A/N: No, this wasn't in the original movie, but I felt Belle's kids would have tried something on Rum. Though baiting the Dark One's kind of like teasing a sleeping giant, you get more than you bargained for. Next up-the wedding!**


	10. Wedding Bells

**10**

**Wedding Bells**

The next two weeks sped by in a flurry of activity both at Shoe House and the Dark Castle. Aurora and Rumplestiltskin were kept busy spinning yards of soft wool into fine thread, then weaving cloth, some accented with silk and others with velvet. At the castle, Elaina and Ivy picked out patterns from old magazines for both the boys and themselves, and Elaina did her best to give the old styles a new look, mostly by designing hats and head pieces for them.

She and Jasmine even designed a special crest for Rumplestilskin to wear on his wedding day. "Look, Papa!" Elaina burst into his workroom one day, waving a square of blue velvet triumphantly under his nose. "Jasmine and I made this for you to wear on your wedding doublet."

Rumple peered at the square which had a spinning wheel and a wand embroidered in golden thread on it. "What's this, Elaina?"

"It's a crest. In gold for our family. See, it tells your heritage—the spinning wheel for your past, and because you can spin straw into gold, and the wand because you have magic."

"A crest? Like a noble? Dearie, I was born the son of a spinner and a tinker, not a knight. There's not a drop of blue blood in my veins. Unless you count the times I've pricked myself with dyed wool sewing."

"So? You've _inherited_ nobility, Papa," Elaina insisted. "Remember, how you told me that it's our actions that determine how noble we are, not our birth? So you have as good a right as any noble I know to have a crest. Don't you think it looks fine?"

He smiled at his daughter. She had come to him as a spoiled twelve year old accustomed to having servants for her every whim, and every whim catered to. Some would have said she was hopeless and would only grow up to be another spoiled noblewoman. But Rumple had managed, sometimes with gritted teeth, to teach Elaina about the truly important things in life, things that were worth more than fancy dresses, gold, and jewels. It seemed she had learned these lessons well.

"I love it, dearie. Your embroidery has improved since you were twelve." He patted her cheek.

Elaina beamed. "You needed something to dress up the doublet. And since you're marrying a former noble, I figured we could use a crest—to identify us."

Rumple chuckled. "I don't think anyone here will have any trouble knowing who we are."

"Maybe not, but still . . ." Elaina smirked, tossing her honey gold hair.

"Go on and keep sewing, dearie. I'll be along soon for supper." He waved her away, trying to concentrate on his current project, making a gold wedding band for Belle.

Just as Elaina exited, Clary trotted in, dragging along her favorite stuffed white rabbit, Chuckles. Chuckles wore a black vest with a fake watch hanging on it, and was worn and soft from Clary sleeping with him every night and playing with him during the day.

Clary's hair was pulled back in a tail, but the ribbon was undone, and there was a splotch of jam on her pink pinafore. "Papa, what are you doing?" she asked, trying to peer over the top of the table.

"Be careful, snippet," he cautioned, lifting her up and sitting her on his good knee. "I'm watching the gold set, and it's hot."

"How come?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Because I'm making a ring, dearie."

"A ring? For who, Papa? Is it mine?"

"No, it's for Belle, Clary. It's a wedding ring," he told her, pointing to the mold where the molten gold was hardening. He glanced down at his youngest and shook his head. He didn't even want to _think_ about when Clary was old enough to marry. He'd probably end up hexing any suitor's hands off for daring to touch his baby girl.

"Cause you're getting married, right?"

"That's right, Clary. Very soon."

"And that means I'm gonna have a real mom, and she's gonna move into the castle, right?"

"It does, indeed. And so will all her children, to be your new brothers and sisters."

Clary clapped her hands. "And maybe now I'll have sisters that'll play tea party with me."

"Oh, I think June and Nora will be quite happy to do that," Rumple said, ruffling his daughter's auburn curls. "And Phillip too, only he might not want to play tea party, honey."

"Why not?"

"Because Phillip's a boy, dearie."

"But _you're_ a boy and so's Uncle Jeff and _you_ play with me."

"Yes, dearie, I know," Rumple said, thinking _I know I've indulged her a bit too much, but what was I to do? I was trying to be her mother and her father._ "But that's a little different. Phillip's sort of like Jack, he likes to be outside running around."

"Oh. Then I guess I'll just have to make a deal with him, like I do with Jack," Clary said simply.

"You can try, dearie," the sorcerer laughed. No one was as determined as his Clary. Poor Phillip was going to be hard pressed to say no to her, just like her brothers were.

He settled her against him as he waited for the gold to harden. The ring also had an eternity knot etched into it, since love was as eternal as the stars, and never died. When he judged the gold was ready, he used a tiny clamp and a pair of silver prongs to remove the ring from the mold.

It winked in the light of his oil lamps, like a star fallen from the heavens.

"Oooh! It's bee-you-ti-ful!" Clary squealed, her hands reaching out to it.

"Ah, ah! Don't touch, Clarissa! It's hot!" he warned, holding the ring with the prongs out of her reach.

"Then how's Belle gonna wear it?"

"It'll cool down soon." He examined the ring carefully, searching for imperfections. There were none. He gently placed it in a blue velvet ring box and locked it in his safe, where he kept his ledgers and important documents as well as some dangerous magical objects.

"Come on, dearie. I believe it's almost lunch. Let's see what Uncle Jeff made today."

"Peanut butter n'jelly," Clary sang.

"Again?" Rumple said in mock dismay.

Clary shrugged. "It's all he knows how to make."

"Or all we can eat without getting sick," Rumple muttered, and took Clary's hand as they climbed the stairs together. Since Ivy was busy most of the day making dresses, Jeff had volunteered to get lunch together for the time being. But his culinary skills were limited. "I'll have to teach him how to make chicken sandwiches and egg salad," Rumple told Clary. "Before I become a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"Ouch! You pricked me _again_, Rennie!" Phillip complained loudly as his sister was pinning up the legs and sleeves of his shirt and pants, his new set of clothes for the wedding.

"If you'd stop squirming and be _still_, Phillip, I wouldn't prick you!" Rennie said exasperatedly. The six-year-old seemed to have ants in his pants, and was hardly able to stand still while she pinned up the cloth.

"I'm sick of being still!" Phillip groused. "Why do we gotta have new clothes anyway, Ren? I ain't getting' married!"

Rennie removed a pin from between her teeth and said, "You want to look nice and not like a ragamuffin, right? So you don't embarrass Mom on her wedding day?"

"Yeah, but . . . why's it taking so long?"

"It wouldn't if you could just sit still for more than five minutes."

"But I'm hot and I gotta pee!"

"Phil-lip!" his sister groaned, enunciating his name as she did only when she was losing her patience. "Do you really have to go, or are you just saying that?"

"I do, Rennie. Honest!" The little boy whimpered.

Rennie quickly helped the little boy step out of his pants and pointed to the small screen in the corner. Behind it was a magical chamberpot, that vanished whatever was put in it. Belle had gotten it in payment for curing Han's summer sore throat. "Go on! But don't dawdle. I need to get you done before tonight. Then I'll work on sewing Kristen's gown."

Phillip rushed behind the screen, undoing the tie on his underwear. He'd grown used to his sisters seeing him in various stages of undress and so wasn't embarrassed.

He deliberately took a little more time than was necessary, happy to get away from Rennie's pins and stifling fabric.

Until Rennie coughed and said, "I'm waiting, Phillip! Come on, I haven't got all day!"

Sighing, Phillip came back towards her, and wished he could just magic clothes out of the air, like the Golds probably did.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The day of the wedding, Ivy rose early, unable to sleep. Today was the big day, and to calm her nerves, she started kneading a batch of bread. As she pressed and rolled the dough, she started to relax. The familiar smell of yeast and sugar surrounded her, and she sighed dreamily. She didn't know why she was nervous, after all _she_ wasn't getting married, but she was, just a little. She had been the surrogate mother to this bunch for so long that she worried about Belle thinking she'd done it all wrong. Ivy was great at baking and using her magic to create wonderful recipes and clean up the kitchen, but she wasn't sure about mothering children, except for Clary. She hoped Belle was better at it than she was, but at the same time she hoped the other woman wasn't critical of her efforts. And now she had to share her kitchen, and that worried her most of all.

As she kneaded, she thought about the wedding feast, which was traditionally the responsibility of the groom, it showed that he could provide adequately for his new bride, and some of this bread, actually all of it, would be for it. She also had several roasts, a ham, fish, and chicken, as well as soup, salad, several vegetable dishes, potatoes, rice, and cakes and pies. She couldn't have done half the cooking without Jasmine's help or the help of her magic. Jefferson provided the drinks, some casks of wine, kegs of ale, hard cider, and juice and milk for those who were too young to drink.

She had made sure Clary, Jasmine, and the younger boys had their baths last night. She had taken hers at the crack of dawn this morning, and was grateful for her father's foresight in installing indoor plumbing. He'd also added on two more bathrooms, for a total of five, three upstairs and two down, which would sure come in handy when the Avonleas moved in.

She had just set the loves aside to rise when Bae came into the kitchen, his hair still damp and his face a little red from shaving. He was not dressed yet in his wedding clothes, since the wedding wasn't until noon and the animals still had to be fed and watered. "What were you up all night baking, or did you start kneading away this morning?"

Ivy slanted him a glance, he knew her too well. "Just this morning. Couldn't sleep."

"What are you nervous about? You're not saying I do." Bae smirked, knowing exactly why she was up kneading dough at this hour.

"I know, but . . . it's Papa's big day and I want everything to be perfect."

"Perfect's an ideal, not a reality," Bae quoted, repeating an oft said phrase of Rumplestiltskin's.

She laughed. "Must be something I got from Mother."

"It's the only thing," Bae told her. He still had some hazy memories of Milah, and while some were nice, most involved her screaming and shaking her fist at his father, accusing him of being a lazy, no-good, worthless coward. He leaned on the counter. "I should start feeding Rogue and Flicker soon, but . . . got anything to eat?"

"There's some hard boiled eggs over in that bowl. And some of last night's bread with honey. It's going to be feed yourself breakfast today since I have to help Jasmine and Clary get ready."

"That's good enough for me." He picked up an egg, and began to peel it. Then he put it on a plate and added a large slice of bread, slathered with honey, and an apple. "Coffee?"

She waved the pot over to him. "You'd better hope Serenity knows how to make good coffee."

"If she doesn't, I'll just come up here," Bae poured himself a cup, then froze as he stirred in some sugar. "Wait a minute! You _know_ . . . about Rennie and me?"

Ivy cocked an eyebrow. "Well, it _was_ kind of obvious . . . to me anyway."

"What gave it away? We're . . . umm . . . still meeting in secret."

"That dinner . . . the one where Belle lost her eyelash, not the one where the boys got her drunk. You couldn't keep your eyes off Rennie the whole time. You just sat there and stared at her."

"Did I really?"

Ivy nodded. "But I think I was the only one who noticed. Jack, Finn, and Tom were too busy laughing up their sleeves, Elaina was making mooncalf eyes at Rafe, Dad was doing the same with Belle, and Clary and Jasmine are too young to understand what those looks mean. So your secret is safe with me, big brother."

"I should know better than to think you wouldn't see it. You notice everything, Ivy. Like a little owl." Bae said, eating alternate bites of bread and egg.

"Papa would have too, except he was too busy falling in love himself. If you two do plan on being together—"

"We do," Bae assured her.

"—then I'd let Papa and Belle know about it sooner rather than later. Unless you want them to assume you're "brother and sister"."

Bae almost choked on his coffee. "Gods, no! I want to marry her, Ivy. I certainly don't see her as my sister!"

"Just don't get married _too_ soon, Bae. I need to rest up before doing another wedding feast," Ivy said.

"We want to wait until I'm eighteen and she's seventeen," Bae told his sister. "Let Papa get settled in with his new wife and all."

"Things are sure going to change around here," Ivy predicted.

"I know. Hopefully for the better."

"Mmm . . . Bae? What if . . . I don't get along with our new mother? I mean, I've never had one before."

"You'll be fine, Ivy. You weren't missing much with Milah, trust me. Most of what I remember of her was calling Papa every name in the book and throwing things at him when she got mad. He was never good enough for her, or whatever she wanted him to be. Sometimes . . . I used to curl up in my bed with the covers over me and cry, hoping they'd quit fighting . . . hoping that she'd love him again . . . but she never did."

"I'm glad I don't remember her, Bae, if things were like you said," Ivy said sincerely. "She sounds impossible to please."

"I guess she was. Gods know, nothing Papa did ever pleased her. I'm glad he has this chance with Belle. He deserves it."

"I know. I'm happy for him. I'm just nervous about someone else ordering me around my kitchen."

"It doesn't have to be like that. You could learn to work together, like a team. Like Finn and I do, usually."

"You're right. I'm being a silly goose. It's just going to take a bit of . . . adjustment."

"Uh huh," Bae said, eating the last bit of his apple. "Gotta go feed the horses."

"Make sure you're dressed on time, Baelfire."

"Oh, yes, milady!" he pretended to tug his forelock, laughing. "Whatever you say!"

"Get out of my kitchen and milk the cow, you wretch!" Ivy scolded, swatting him with her dishcloth until he retreated out the door, sniggering.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

At nine o'clock in the morning, Belle heard a sharp knock at the door. She was in the tub, soaking in cream of coconut and mango oil, which she'd had shipped to her from Neverland. She sat up and called out, "Rennie! Rafe! Whichever one of you is down there, answer the door, please!"

"Got it, Mom!" Rafe called. "Sure hope it's not a patient."

Belle heard the door open, then Rafe let out a whoop. "Aunt Alice! You made it!"

"Sure I did, rascal! Told your ma I would, didn't I?" said a familiar voice. "Gods and hells, Rafe! You weren't any bigger than a plucked chicken last time I saw you and now you're taller than me! Guess your ma got you to eat your vegetables after all."

Belle heard Rafe chuckle, and she smiled. Her best friend, Alice Sharpe, head of one of the best mercenary units Avonlea had ever had, was finally here. She was right, Rafe was growing into a fine looking young man. He resembled Gaston at that age, but was unlike him in temperament as night and day.

"Is the company with you?" asked Rafe.

"Now, you know where I go, so do my men," Alice said. "They're finding quarters down at that tavern and such. My lieutenant, Mario, will keep them in line until the feast. You can run over and talk to them while I help your ma get into all her finery and whatnot. I need to get a bath myself, been a week in this mail. Lucky it's not me getting hitched today, I'd scare off the groom."

"Aww, you don't smell so bad, Aunt Alice," Rafe chuckled.

"Only cause you like the smell of horses and sweat, boy. Where's Belle?"

"Upstairs, I think she's getting ready."

"I sure hope so. Hope my dress isn't too wrinkled neither. Oh, well, I can shake it out. Least all the eyes won't be on me, even if I am the maid-of-honor. See you later, Rafe!"

The sound of Alice's boots thudding on the stairs made Belle quit lounging in the tub and get out and dry herself off with a towel before putting on a thick robe to greet her friend, whom she hadn't seen in almost five years, since Alice had helped her flee the sack of Avonlea with Rennie, Rafe, and Phillip. Alice and her company, the Card Captors, had played a running rearguard while Belle and the children got across the border and through the next kingdom, finally coming to Valley Way after three weeks of hard traveling.

Belle heard three sharp knocks, their old signal, before Alice threw open the bedroom door and strode in, dressed in her familiar chain mail armor, leather trews, and dusty boots that came halfway to her knees. Her long blond hair was braided and wrapped about her head, the better to fit under her helmet. Her blue cloak flapping at her heels, Alice closed the door, slung her pack and sword on the floor and grabbed Belle in a bear hug.

"Belle, honey, it's been _ages_!" Alice cried. "And gods, you look like you didn't age a bit since you snuck out of the palace!"

Belle hugged her back. "Oh, Alice! I was worried you wouldn't get the invitation, or you'd be in the middle of a job and couldn't come in time. I'm so glad you're here."

"I wouldn't miss it, hon. Was down near Briony, you know, the kingdom surrounded by that hedge of living thorns when I got your letter. Had to quick march us all up here, but wild ogres couldn't keep me away. I still can't believe you're tying the knot again! And with a sorcerer, no less."

"A sorcerer with eight children," Belle said mischievously.

"Leaping lizards! He has eight and what do you have again . . . seven, nine?"

"Ten."

"_Ten!_ Jumping gypsies! You practically have a merc company of your own, sweetie! Where you going to put them all? Not here, I hope!"

"No, we're going to move into his castle, on the hill. We decided to leave Shoe House as my office, where I can see patients on designated weekdays."

"Ah. That makes sense. It's good that you'll still practice, so you're not stuck home tending to all those runny-nosed brats. Are they all his? Because no wonder his wife died."

"Oh, his wife didn't die. She up and left him for a pirate's life. But that was before he adopted the other six. He only had his own two then," Belle said.

"Humph! Known a few like that." Alice snorted. "Can't settle down. But why try in the first place, if you're not going to stick to it, I say? Mind if I borrow that bath water? I'm a little rank."

"Go ahead. It's still warm."

Alice began stripping off her armor, boots, and clothing. "Smells heavenly! Can't tell you the last time I had a real bath, instead a cold dunk in a stream."

As Alice sank into the warm water with a sigh, Belle began drying her hair. "Rennie ought to be up here soon to help me dress."

Alice relaxed against the side of the tub. "Can't wait to see that little gal again. She must be a real beauty now, like her ma, eh?"

"She's got all the village boys eyeing her," Belle admitted.

"If they do more than eye her, they'll get my boot up their ass," Alice growled. "And so will this sorcerer—what's his name—Rumplestiltskin? If he doesn't treat you right."

"Yes. I call him Rum. And he's been a perfect gentleman."

"Humph! That's what you said about Gaston," Alice snorted.

"Rum is _nothing_ like that blackguard!" Belle said hotly. "He's honorable and he's no skirt chaser."

"Thank the gods! But Belle, I've heard rumors . . . isn't he . . . the Dark One?"

"Yes, but he's nothing like the stories. He's not evil or . . . or cowardly. He's patient and kind and he loves me . . . just the way I am. You'll see when you meet him."

"I don't usually hold truck with sorcerers, Belle. Slippery characters, they are. But I'll make an exception for this one. Anybody with ten brats has guts, and you'd not be fooled by a pretty face this time."

"That's for sure." Belle finished with her hair and began to pull on her underthings, chemise, and corset.

Alice looked up and said, "Let me wash my hair and then I'll help you with that bloody thing. Ugh! I remember my mom lacing me into that torture device so tight I couldn't breathe, much less swing a sword. I cut my last one into ribbons a long time ago."

"When you ran off to join Hearts and Daggers, right?" Belle asked, naming the merc company Alice had joined as a young woman.

"Yup. No wonder why those highborn ladies pass out so much."

"I know. I'm only wearing this one for my wedding. After that I put it away for good. I believe in breathing, not suffering."

"You said it, sister! Now where's that fancy shampoo of yours?"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

At quarter to twelve, Rumplestiltskin was ready to shepherd his children down to the village. He was dressed in gold and blue for the wedding, gold leather breeches, shiny high top boots, a soft as cobwebs ivory shirt and a sleek blue velvet doublet with the Gold "crest" embroidered on it by Elaina. Elaina had also made him a hat of matching blue velvet with a glossy phoenix feather in it. Gods only know where she'd gotten it. He also wore a simple black leather belt with his eating knife and money pouch on it. The ring was in his pouch.

Rum came downstairs just in time to inspect his children and Jefferson, who was also dressed in his best, a green silken tunic, black trousers, spit-polished shoes, and his black top hat and cape. He also wore his dress sword, bound by a red peace knot.

Bae wore gold and black, gold shirt, black vest, black trews and boots, velvet half cloak and gold cap with a blue-green pheasant cockade. Finn wore ice blue and white, with a peacock feather in his cap. His flute was primed and ready to play some songs at the feast. Jack was dressed in deep maroon and brown, with a cardinal feather in his floppy hat. Tom wore yellow, with a canary feather to match his jaunty pointed cap. All of the boys' shirts bore the crest upon them.

Ivy wore a simple yet fetching gown of green sprigged cloth, spun by Rum himself, it was light and airy, yet sturdy. She wore matching green heels and her hair was piled up on her head, held with a beautiful shimmery green butterfly barrette. She wore matching earrings, and a touch of lip gloss. She looked elegant, yet innocent.

Elaina had on a deep purple gown, with a silken overskirt and long sleeves. The style emphasized her slender waist and figure, and she had on a tall conical headdress that offset her brilliant hair, which was done up in dozens of small braids. She also wore glittering crystal shoes and had on an oddly shaped rock as her pendant. The Gold crest was boldly stitched on the bodice. She wore small gold hoops in her ears.

For Jasmine there was a lovely turquoise gown, her first "grown-up" dress that fell past her ankles, with sparkling panels of gold cloth and silken sleeves and underskirt. She wore pointed shoes with jeweled buckles and tinkling bracelets and tiny dangling turquoise beads with a sheer headdress anchored by a golden circlet. Her hair was left to flow like a midnight waterfall down her back.

Clary was utterly adorable in her gown of pink and white organdy, like a rosebud, with a full ruffled skirt, lacy sleeves, and tiny pink ballet flats with roses on the toes. She had her red-gold hair drawn back in a golden hair net with a real rose tucked into her hair on the right side. She wore tiny pearls in her ears and a pearl choker about her neck. She had a basket of rose petals in her hands.

"All of you look incredible!" Rumple exclaimed. "You girls did a great job."

Elaina blushed. "Thanks, Papa. We had to, since we're the spinner's daughters."

"Is everyone ready? Then let's go. It's bad luck to keep the bride waiting on her wedding day," Rumplestiltskin said, and led the way out the doors and to the three carriages he'd hired for the occasion.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle glanced around at the small chapel, with its marble statues of the god and goddess of love and marriage, and wondered where Rumplestiltskin was. It was nearly noon and still he hadn't arrived with his family. _Our family,_ she reminded herself. She shifted slightly, waiting on the steps of the little alter adorned with blue ribbons, flowers, and fruit, traditional offerings to the gods.

Her gown was a masterpiece of silk and satin, a creamy underskirt of silk with a heavier golden overskirt and golden removable bodice, Aurora had made it in two pieces so Belle could take it off easily on her wedding night. The neck and hem were done in golden rosettes and clever tucks at the waist showed off Belle's slim figure. Belle wore simple golden jewelry, the only set she owned from her days as Avonlea's princess—a golden chain, bracelet, and earrings. A blue ribbon drew up some of her hair, borrowed from Alice, fulfilling the old adage of "something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new". Her feet were encased in soft kid leather slippers dyed to match her gown, soft enough to caress her feet, but sturdy enough to dance in. She held a bouquet of roses of all shades from her garden, she would take the cuttings with her to plant over at the castle.

Alice said she was stunning. Her best friend wore a sky blue gown of crinkled tulle that matched her eyes, with a scooped neck and a pretty white enamel pendant. Soft half-boots were on her feet, and her hair was loosed from its customary battle braid to fall carelessly about her shoulders. She wore a long knife concealed in a hidden pocket of her skirt, for Alice refused to go unarmed anywhere.

Beside her stood Rennie, who wore a cream gown offset with a deep magenta sash and magenta trim on the sleeves, bodice, and hem. She wore magenta heels and on a ribbon around her neck was a gold heart. Belle didn't recognize it, but when she asked, Rennie just shrugged and didn't answer.

Aurora wore midnight blue silk shot through with silvery stars, she looked like a princess of the night, with her bright blond hair coiled on her head. She had on a silver knotwork locket and matching earrings, her only legacy from her former life. She had on sparkly silver slippers.

Kristen wore an amber colored gown that came down to her ankles, it perfectly matched her light gold curls and she wore an ostrich feathered bonnet and a charm bracelet her mother had given her, and white shoes.

Nora wore a seafoam green dress, with just enough lace to make her seem like a gentle lady, with an abalone shell necklace to match and sea colored ribbons wove into her braided hair.

Ariel had on a rose colored gown, it offset her red hair extremely well and she wore a pink sea gem in her hair, and pearls about her neck and pearly white shoes on her tiny feet.

Little June was a vision in a pastel peach gown, that wisped around her like moth wings, Rennie had done up her hair in a bunch of ringlets and given her sprays of baby's breath to wear like a crown. She wore little white slippers.

The boys, from Rafe down to Phillip, wore matching silk shirts, trousers, and tunics of ivory and doublets of blue, shiny boots, and navy caps. Aurora had gotten a deal on ivory and blue cloth and used it to good effect with her brothers. Rennie had designed clever little animals out of ivory scraps to pin on each one's cap to tell them apart. Rafe's had a hawk, Peter's a stag, Nick had a frog, and Phillip had a horse.

All stood proudly in a line down to the doors, waiting the arrival of the groom, his attendant, and his family.

Just then, three carriages drew up and Rumplestiltskin and his family alighted from them. His children halted and lined up on the right as the groom and Jefferson made their way down to the altar to the sound of flutes and mandolins playing a wedding march. Unlike most kingdoms, the custom in Valley Way was for the groom to come to the bride, who awaited his coming with bated breath.

Ahead of him scampered Clary, tossing rose petals on the aisle for good luck, when she reached Belle she threw them at the bride and then went to stand with Bae off to the right, giggling.

"That's our new mama, Bae!" she cried, her voice echoing in the little chapel. "Isn't she bee-you-ti-ful?"

Everyone smiled at the little girl's enthusiasm and Bae knelt and whispered, "Yes, now hush, Clary, the ceremony's about to start!"

"Cute kid!" Alice whispered to Belle, then she dropped back a pace and stood next to Jefferson as Rumple came up and took his lovely bride's hand.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, his eyes twinkling as he said, "You called, dearie, and I answered."

Belle laughed, then she faced forward as Geppetto, the alderman of Valley Way, performed the marriage ceremony. She had never seem such a handsome groom, and her heart was beating a mile a minute as he grasped her hand in his. Once again that electric energy shot through her, making her tingle and burn with desire and a love like she had never known.

The ceremony was short and sweet.

Geppetto blessed everyone in attendance for coming to witness this holy ceremony and called upon the god and goddess to bless this marriage in the name of love and fidelity. He gave the couple a marble goblet of honey wine to drink from, for unity, had them feed each other date and honey cakes for prosperity, and exchange rings of eternal love to seal their vows.

"Do you, Belle of the House of Avonlea, noble Healer, take this man, Rumplestiltskin Gold, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Belle answered, her voice ringing high and sweet in the air.

Rumple placed the ring he had made on her finger.

"Do you, Rumplestiltskin Gold, archmagus, take this woman, Belle of House Avonlea, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he answered, his voice ringing with a sorcerer's timbre of command.

She placed the gold wedding band she had once given Gaston on his finger.

"May the gods and those present bear witness, these two are joined in matrimony, and what the gods have joined, let no man tear asunder. You may kiss the bride, Rumple!" Geppetto said, making the sign of the eternity knot above them.

He took Belle's face in his hands and kissed her, one long affirmation of all the love and passion within him.

Belle felt the shock clear through to her toes, as if she were a match set afire. "My brilliant sorcerer," she said huskily. "I will love you forever."

"My beloved Healer. I will love you always," he replied, then he took her hand and turned to face the villagers and their children. He lifted their hands above their heads.

"I give you—Master and Mistress Gold!" Jefferson cried, clapping.

Everyone watching cheered. Well, mostly everyone.

On the outskirts of the crowd was a tall man with a small goatee and dark wild hair, he reminded one of a Gypsy, dressed in a billowy shirt and blue trousers tucked into knee high boots. Beside him was woman wearing similar clothing and a red kerchief over her dark locks, as well as thick gold hoops in her ears. She also had a red sash on with a sword tucked into it. They watched the proceedings and eyed the children in attendance with greedy eyes. They alone did not cheer as the happy couple came down the stairs and among the throng of wellwishers.

"Our time will come," the man whispered to the woman. "Now let's away to the ship. We'll see them again . . . as we're sailing away."

They slipped away without anyone noticing their departure. For now.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

As Belle danced with Rumple to the sweet notes of Finn's flute, Jefferson paused at the table full of food to speak with the woman in blue, who had been his partner in the ceremony. "Hello. That shade of blue brings out your eyes, sweetheart." He smiled his most charming smile at her.

Alice looked him up and down, as she did a new recruit. "You use that line on all the girls, or are you just trying to impress me, pretty boy?"

Jefferson grinned. "Whatever works, sweet thing."

Alice snorted. "That's the first time I've been called that by a man. Must be the dress. Men lose all sense when they see a lady in a skirt."

"Are you saying I'm mad?"

"You must be to petition the captain of a merc company that way. Most guys I know run the other way."

Jefferson swallowed hard. Surely not . . . "You're telling me . . . _you're_ a mercenary captain?" He started to laugh. "Good one, sweetheart!"

In the next instant, Alice had her long knife resting lightly against his throat. "It's not a joke, pretty boy. Believe me now?"

"Uh . . . yeah." Jefferson gasped. "Now put it away. Okay?"

The knife vanished. She chuckled. "Always be prepared, that's my motto."

"Oh? I thought it was how to cut a guy's throat ten different ways in ten seconds," Jefferson quipped. "Who _are_ you?"

"Name's Alice Sharpe. Captain of the Card Captors."

"Bloody gods! You're _that_ Alice?"

"You've heard of me then?"

"Who hasn't? You and your company fought the Queen of Hearts and her card army and drove her back into Wonderland," Jefferson whistled.

Alice nodded. "That's how we got our name. Who are you?"

"Jefferson Hatter, mercenary and current advisor to Queen Regina, at your service. I'm Rum's best friend."

"And I'm Belle's. Well met, Master Hatter."

"Jeff, please. Would you like a drink? Name your poison."

"Gin fizz," Alice said, following him to the open bar. He had potential. And at least he wasn't challenging her to a duel. Or a drinking contest. Not yet at least.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle twirled in the arms of her husband, nearly dizzy with the sensations he aroused in her. She had experienced desire and passion before with Gaston . . . but somehow those feelings were eclipsed by Rumplestiltskin . . . the way a bonfire eclipsed a campfire.

The slightest brush of his fingers on her skin made her burn as if she were fevered, and she longed to drag him behind a bush and rip off his tunic . . . among other things. She stared up into his dark brown eyes and wanted this night to never end . . . and yet it couldn't end soon enough.

Her feet were flying over the grass as they danced, nothing too fast, out of deference to Rum's leg, but she felt as though she walked on air . . . until he touched her and brought her down to earth and into his arms.

Rumple had eyes only for his beautiful wife, she outshone the stars in his opinion. When he touched her, he felt the magic of true love between them, a shocking swift current of energy that threatened to drown what remained of his self control. He wanted to pick her up and find a quiet place to be alone, where he could undo that gorgeous dress of hers and show her what happened when a sorcerer loved without inhibition.

But of course he didn't. He just held her close, and let his eyes promise all kinds of things while he twirled about slowly.

Tonight would be a night to remember. He was right. Only in a most unexpected fashion.

They took the carriages back to the castle. Most of the children, especially the younger ones, like Clary, Phillip, June, and the twins, were asleep. The others were nodding off. Ivy, Bae, Rafe, and Rennie helped carry the little ones upstairs to the guest rooms before falling asleep themselve**s.**

Rumple thought he felt the castle cringe as they came up the walk, with the influx of eleven new people and a bear and a cat, the castle was about bursting at the seams, or so it appeared to the sorcerer. He would organize everything and everyone later. Tonight was for him and Belle.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple traced a finger gently down Belle's collarbone as thunder boomed outside. It sounded like a doozy of a storm. Luckily they were warm and dry inside and Rum had plenty to distract him in the form of his new bride. He trailed kisses down her neck, making her hiss and pull him to her.

"Like that, do you, dearie?"

"Rum, you're a beast!" she whimpered. Then she kissed him back, her hands gliding over his chest. "But you're _my_ beast. I love you . . . so much."

He chuckled hoarsely, then his fingers went to the ties on her nightgown. Lightning flared outside. He paid no attention to it until suddenly the door opened. He froze, then he swore softly. "Dammit, I forgot to lock the door!"

"Papa, I'm a'scared of the thunder," Clary whimpered. "It's really loud."

Rumplestiltskin groaned softly. "Clary, dearie, go sleep with Ivy." He yanked the sheet over himself and Belle, who was laughing softly.

"No. I wanna sleep with you."

Before he could protest, Clary had climbed onto the bed and snuggled inbetween him and Belle. "Clarissa, gods!"

A clap of thunder shook the room.

It brought two others into the room.

"Mom, lightning almost hit me through the window and it's dark," Phillip's voice echoed through the room. "Can I sleep in here with you?"

"Me too. The wind sounds like it's screaming. Like somebody dying," June whined.

Belle gave Rumple an apologetic look. "So much for our wedding night." Then she called, "Come on up, Phil and Junie. You can sleep by me, on this side."

Rumplestiltskin stifled a snarl. "I swear, the gods are laughing their asses off right now. That's what I get for forgetting to lock the door."

"And having eighteen children, dearie!" Belle sighed. "But don't worry. Our honeymoon will be different."

"What's a honeymoon, Papa?" Clary piped up.

"A honeymoon's where papa and mama get to be alone on a deserted island, dearie. _All_ alone. Now go to sleep," he ordered, then buried his face in his pillow. This was _not_ the way he'd envisioned his wedding night. Not at all. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. Maybe if he practiced his meditation, he'd fall asleep. Which was the only option left to him with three kids sharing his bed. His wedding night had quickly turned from the stuff of dreams to the stuff of nightmares. He should have gone with his first impulse and found a quiet spot in the back of the chapel. Amid the crackle of thunder, he was sure he heard the gods laughing.


	11. A Mixed Up Mess

**11**

**A Mixed Up Mess**

The next day dawned wet and soggy, and tempers were short and flared over the tiniest things, such as who was first to the bathroom and where their things were and whose room were they in. Jefferson woke up with a hangover, he'd spent the night on the sofa, passed out after trying to match Alice drink for drink. (She'd won, much to his chagrin). He asked Rumple to give him a potion, but the sorcerer was still cranky from last night's interruption, and also the amount of spats going on with the children that morning. The weather didn't help anything either, as clouds gathered and it began to storm again, causing the castle to become dark and dreary.

"What's wrong with Uncle Jeff?" asked Clary innocently upon seeing him sitting at the table, holding his head in his hands.

"I have a headache, sweetie," Jeff said pathetically. "Rum, what can you give me?"

Rumple scowled. "Black coffee. Right now I can barely hear myself think."

"I can make you up something, Jeff," Belle offered. "As soon as I'm more awake. We didn't get much sleep last night since Clary, Phil, and June decided to come into our room and sleep with us. The storm scared them."

Jefferson gaped at them. "On your wedding _night_? Oh, dearest gods!" He started to snicker, then winced as his head protested.

"Go on and laugh," Rumple grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I'm sure it's funny to you but it's not to me."

Suddenly they heard an almighty row coming from upstairs. Then Phillip came down and cried, "Mom! Mom, they're fighting over the bathroom."

"Who is?" Belle asked.

"Umm . . . Ariel and some new girl with long blond hair. They're both saying they get to use it first and Rafe's in the other one and Nick said he gets to use the one down the hall and I really gotta pee."

"There's another one by the den, Phillip. Use that," Rumple told him, and Phillip dashed off. "All right. I have to settle this one way or another. Otherwise we'll have a fight every day on our hands. What do you say we do a schedule?"

Belle frowned. "A schedule?"

"Yes. We can divide up chores and bathrooms and . . . bedrooms."

"How?"

"With a system of letters, numbers, and colors. Let me write out a sample for you," Rumple said.

"In the meantime, I'll go and break up the fight between Ariel and . . . what is your oldest daughter's name again?"

"Elaina. Better hurry, it sounds like the Banshee Wars."

As Belle hurried upstairs to try and mitigate between the two girls, Rumple began scribbling upon some spare parchment. He wrote down all the children's names, and assigned them each a color for bathroom privileges, a letter for their room, and a number, from the oldest, Bae, who was #1 down to Clary, who was #18.

"You sure this is gonna work, Rum?" asked Jefferson.

"I'll make it work," the sorcerer replied determinedly. He started on a second piece of parchment for chores, rotating them by the day of the week, so no one got stuck doing the same chores or ones that were too hard for them.

Bae, Ivy, and Belle came back down the stairs just as Rumple was finished assigning things to the lists he'd made.

"Umm . . . I should probably go out and get the eggs and some bacon or ham for breakfast," Bae said, and pulled on his cloak before going outside.

"I think we ought to make something simple for breakfast today," Belle yawned.

"I can help," Ivy offered. "How about scrambled eggs with ham or bacon, toast, fruit, and coffee?"

"Sounds great to me, dearie," said her father. "Did you get the bathroom situation straightened out, Belle?"

"Yes. Rafe was done shaving so I just sent Ariel in that one to take a bath. And I told her not to take too long."

"Ariel always takes forever," Rennie said, coming into the kitchen. "She's a water hog." She noticed the empty coffee pot and said, "Let me make some more coffee."

"I can do that!" Ivy said, rather sharply.

"So can I," Rennie locked eyes with her. "I know how my family likes their coffee."

"Mine likes theirs strong and with some milk and sugar," Ivy remarked.

"Most of us like it like that," Belle interrupted, staving off another quarrel. "Where's the coffee, Ivy?"

"Over there, in the pantry, next to the flour and sugar," Ivy pointed.

"Mom, can you bring me some flour and baking soda?" Rennie called. "I can make biscuits."

"Hey, I was going to make toast. It's faster," Ivy objected.

"Don't you know how to make biscuits?" Rennie queried, slightly condescending.

"Of course! But with this mob to feed, we need to get together something fast," Ivy argued. "Toast is fast."

"Fine. _You_ make the toast, _I'll_ make biscuits," Rennie declared. She'd show this supposed chef that she wasn't half bad behind a stove either.

"But it's my . . ." Ivy began, then stopped. It wasn't her kitchen anymore. Technically it was Belle's. Feeling helpless and out of sorts, she called out the back door, "Don't forget to milk the cow, Bae!"

She couldn't believe how her new stepsister had just come into the kitchen and started telling _her_ what to cook! Like Ivy didn't know perfectly well what was best for her own family. Her mouth pursed, she began slicing up bread from the day before, since she had slept too late to start making a fresh batch for breakfast.

"I'll tell Rafe and Pete to fetch the goats up here," Belle said to Rumple. "Because we're going to need more than one cow for this lot. We also have chickens, about two dozen of them."

Rafe and Peter emerged, rubbing their eyes and wearing the same clothes they had on last night, since they'd slept in them. Belle told them to go and bring up the livestock back at Shoe House, she would gather their belongings later. As the boys departed, Bae returned with two pails of milk and two dozen eggs. "I'm going to get a ham and some bacon next."

"Finn! Jack!" Rumple called up the stairs. "Get up and help your brother!"

A pair of sleepy boys responded to his call, and grumbling, came down and went to get some meat from the smokehouse. "How come we get to do all the work around here?" Jack muttered. "She's got sons too!"

"You'll all be assigned chores to do right after breakfast," Rumple said. "For now, do your chores same as always."

Jack did, rolling his eyes as he followed Finn and Bae outside.

Belle began scrambling eggs in a large bowl while Ivy began toasting bread.

Jasmine appeared and Ivy told her to go and set the table. Belle spied June and told her to go and help her new sister, as that was usually her chore at Shoe House.

When the boys came in with the ham and bacon, Ivy used her kitchen magic to chop up the meat so Belle could add it to the eggs and fry it.

Rennie was impressed in spite of herself. "Do you always cook with magic?"

"No. But it saves time when I need to cook quickly," Ivy explained. "You can't really use magic to cook, but you can use it to enhance flavors or rescue burnt things or cut and chop or dice stuff up. It's sort of like having an extra pair of hands."

"Oh. I always thought you could do anything with magic," Rennie said.

"Not everything, dearie," Rumple replied. "And all magic comes with a price, so sometimes it's better to do things with your own two hands."

Recalling Jeff's headache, Belle turned over the scrambled eggs with ham and bacon to Ivy while she mixed up a strange concoction in a glass of tomato juice. "Here, Jeff, try this."

Jefferson took the glass and studied it. "What's in this?"

"A bit of this and that," Belle answered. "Just drink it."

Jefferson gulped it down. "Flaming hells! You trying to kill me?" he gasped. Then he hastily drank a glass of water.

"That's the pepper," Belle chuckled. "But I think you'll find it'll clear up your sinuses."

"Either that or make me pass out," Jeff sighed.

Breakfast went rather well, nothing was burnt and everyone ate every scrap. Belle had Aurora, Kristen, and Ariel do the dishes, then she collected everyone and had them go down to Shoe House to collect all their belongings.

It took six trips with the carriages to bring everything back, and by then Rumplestiltskin had two charts posted upon the wall in the kitchen, one for chores and the other designating which room, bathroom, and wing they would all sleep in. He was rather proud of his accomplishment.

As the ten Avonleas trooped back into the castle carrying their things, he called each of them over to the chart on the wall. "Listen up, dearies! I've devised a system so we can avoid all the confusion and fights that went on this morning."

Bae stared at the chart in dismay. "Gods, Papa, what am I, five again?"

"We had this before Clary was old enough to walk," remarked Tom.

"Yes, and if it worked then for eight of you, it'll work for eighteen," their father said.

Nora stared up at the chart. "Umm . . . how do I know where I am, sir?"

Rumple glanced down at the quiet twin. "You can call me Rum, dearie, for now. I hope someday you'll feel comfortable calling me Papa like my other children do."

"Fat chance!" Nick grumbled, and was promptly cuffed on the back of the head by Rafe.

"Okay . . . but how's it work?" asked Nora.

"It's very simple. Everybody's got a number, from the oldest to the youngest, all the bathrooms have a color, and all the bedrooms have a letter. So . . . you're Nora, right? So that makes you . . .number 14, red bathroom, and room C."

"I think I can remember that." Nora said. She climbed the stairs with her small pack, reciting as she did so, "I'm 14 red C. I'm 14 red C."

On the way down the hall she passed Aurora, who wore a puzzled look on her face. "I don't know if I'm 5 or 6 blue F."

"I think I'm a ten and there's green somewhere in my list," Ariel said, looking on the doors for the letters to each room.

"I hope I don't get lost on the way to the bathroom at night," Phillip said to Peter. "Otherwise I might pee on the floor."

"I hope I don't get lost on the way to the kitchen," Peter said. "This place is huge."

"You'll get used to it," Jack said. "We all did." He beckoned to Peter. "I think you're in here with me." He indicated his room, which he shared already with Tom. "You can put your stuff over there."

"Where's my bed?" Peter asked.

"I dunno. You'll have to ask my papa. He can conjure one for you if he needs to," Jack shrugged.

Meanwhile, Bae went upstairs to get his sword for some practice and found his room was occupied by Rafe. "Don't tell me you're going to be sleeping here! I haven't shared a room since I turned sixteen."

"This is where your father put me, so I guess you are," Rafe said, lowering his pack onto the floor.

Suddenly, the door opened and Rennie and Elaina came in. "But you _can't_ be in here!" Elaina was saying. "This is Bae's room."

"Well, he told me I was 2 blue A," Rennie objected.

"I told Jasmine she could share with your little sister . . . Nora, because I want my own room," Elaina said. "And this is the biggest room besides Papa's suite. With the biggest closet."

Bae glared at her. "And you're forgetting something. It's _mine_."

"You mean, we're all sharing this room?" Rennie gasped. "But that's . . . that's . . ."

"Perfect," Rafe grinned and pulled Elaina into the room and shut the door. "Look, we'll divide it in half. Elaina can stay on my side, since we're a couple—"

"Since when?" Bae frowned.

"Since now," Elaina said, suddenly seeing the wisdom in Rafe's plan. She put her arm around him. "We're officially dating, Bae."

Bae opened his mouth to object, but Rennie came and put her hand under his chin. "Hush, Bae! If we can all be together, who cares whose room it was first?"

"Uh . . well . . . all right . . . but what about our parents?"

"We can . . . uh . . . turn around and face the wall when we're together," Elaina began. "That way if Papa asks, we can tell him we didn't see anything. Oh, Rafe! I missed you!" Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

As Rafe put his arms about her and kissed her back, Bae turned to Rennie and said, "This could work. I just have to pretend your brother's somewhere else smooching my sister."

"Let's do some smooching of our own, Bae," Rennie purred, twining her arms about his shoulders. "We didn't get near enough time together at the wedding."

Bae was only too happy to oblige her. He pulled her around to face the opposite wall and proceeded to get caught up on their kissing from last night.

Things were getting rather heated when the door opened suddenly and Rumple came in, along with Belle. "Bae, I decided to pair you with Rafe so you could—" He halted, his mouth falling open as he saw what was going on. "Baelfire Gold!"

Bae released Rennie and spun around, his face hot. "Uh . . . I can explain, Papa."

"You told me to come here!" Rennie began, flushing.

"We didn't see anything, Mom!" Rafe cried, drawing away from Elaina, but not quick enough to avoid Belle's eagle eye.

"Because you were rather busy yourselves," Belle said. "Rum, your blues and greens are fine, but I think your he's and she's are a little mixed up."

"What are you doing kissing my daughter?" Rumple demanded of Rafe.

"Actually, I kissed _him_, Papa," Elaina put in. "We're going steady."

"You are?" Belle asked. "Rafe, you never told me that!"

"Maybe he didn't know," Bae murmured. "Papa, Rennie and I are—"

"—getting married," Rennie stated.

Rumple looked like he'd been hit in the head with a board. "_Married_? Baelfire, when were you going to tell me this? After you eloped?"

"No, Papa. What Rennie means is . . . we're going to get married."

"But Serenity, you're only sixteen!" Belle cried.

"We've been seeing each other for months and months. Mom, you were eighteen when you married Dad." Rennie reminded her.

"That was different. I had to marry early so I could get an heir to the throne—"

Rumple paled. "Gods and hells! Is that why you want to get married? Because—Baelfire, tell me you haven't . . . that you didn't . . . get her in a family way—"

"Ren, you're _pregnant_?" gasped Rafe. He glared at Bae. "How could you, Gold?"

"_What?_" Belle stared at her daughter. "Serenity, you know how to prevent—"

"Will all of you please shut up and let us explain?" Rennie shouted.

"Papa, Rennie is _not_ expecting," Bae hastened to correct him. "We haven't done anything like that. We've just kissed a few times . . . okay, more than a few times . . . but that's as far as it's gone. I swear."

"We decided to wait until we're married to do that," Rennie said. "It makes more sense that way."

"Thank the gods!" Rumple exhaled, not even realizing he'd been holding his breath. "For a minute there you had me worried."

"Me too," Rafe chimed in, then yelped as Rennie elbowed him. "Hey!"

"Don't you trust your own sister?" Rennie scowled.

"Not with a good looking guy like him," Rafe said indignantly. "I've seen it happen to pretty girls before, Ren."

"I'd never take advantage of her that way!" Bae snapped. "I might not be a nobleman, but I _do_ know the meaning of honor."

"Bae's the most honorable one in the family," Elaina said loyally.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Rafe grumbled.

Belle looked from one set of teenagers to the other. "Rum, we need to fix this mix up. Before we really _do_ have something to worry about."

"Right, dearie." Rumplestiltskin thought fast. "Bae, you and Rafe can share this room. I'll bring one of the extra beds down from the attic. And Elaina, would you mind sharing a room with Rennie?"

"All right. As long as you don't snore," Elaina looked over at Rennie.

"No. That's Kristen. Well, her or Baron, I was never sure which."

"_And_ you aren't allowed to be alone in either of your rooms. As couples, I mean," Belle added.

"You also have to leave the doors open," Rumple interjected. "While we aren't opposed to you all seeing each other, we do have rules you have to follow. You have to set a good example for the younger children."

Bae just nodded. He was used to that. He always had to be a good example, since he was the oldest.

"Like you two do?" Rafe teased, smirking.

"_Raphael!_" Belle scolded.

"Sorry. That was out of line," Rafe apologized. "But I couldn't resist. I heard you got invaded last night."

Rumple coughed. "Next time the door's getting locked."

"Rum!" Belle gasped.

"Umm . . . err . . . that's different. _We're_ married."

"We know, Papa. That's why we're in this mess," Elaina said softly. Then she added to Rennie, "No offense."

"You're right. It _is_ a mess," Rennie agreed.

"But we'll fix it," Rumple said quickly. "You'll see. Come along, girls. You can have the bedroom at the end of the hall here."

Reluctantly, the girls followed him out.

Rafe exchanged rueful glances with Bae. "Damn! I thought we had it made for a minute there."

Bae laughed. "Only in our dreams. One thing you'll learn real quick, Rafe. You can't pull anything over on my father. He _always_ knows when you're up to something."

"How?"

"Magic, probably. I don't know, but he does," Bae shrugged. "I was lucky I got away with courting Rennie in secret for so long. But at least I get to see Rennie everyday now. And we don't have to sneak around anymore."

"And I get to see Elaina. So that's one good thing about living here," Rafe said.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Somehow, they managed to get everything sorted out. Just in time for a storm to come rumbling in again and soak everything. Most of the rooms in the castle were powered by magical lamps, but a few of them, especially the new bathrooms, had oil lanterns in them. Which could prove tricky if you didn't know how to use them.

Tom was playing a board game with Peter, Bae was talking quietly with Rennie, Rafe was making some new fletching for his arrows, with Nick and Jack watching him. Aurora was dozing on the settle, while Ivy read one of her adventure novels beside Rumple, who was spinning. Finn and Ariel were discussing music in the corner, while Elaina sewed a shirt for Rafe and Belle sipped a cup of tea and played a hand of cards with Jefferson. Clary and Nora played house with their dolls, while Jasmine listened as Kristen told her about training Baron, who was curled on the hearth rug.

Phillip was playing with a top, but soon lost interest and moved over to watch Rumpelstitlskin spinning straw into gold. Just then, there came a loud clap of thunder and everyone jumped.

Phillip, who hated thunder, climbed up on Rum's lap. "Ahh! The roof's falling!"

Rumple hugged the terrified boy. "It's okay, lad. This castle has been through countless storms and it's still standing. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Just then there came a scream.

"What was that?" asked Belle, looking about at all the children.

"I'm going to go see!" Jasmine cried, and ran off in the direction of the noise.

In a few minutes she raced back, coming over to Rum and grabbing his hand. "Papa, come quick! There's a sister locked in the bathroom. She knocked over the lamp and it went out and she's stuck in the dark!"

"What sister?" Rumple rose and gently set Phillip down.

"I don't know her name yet, but she's over here," Jasmine practically dragged him down the hall.

Rumple knocked on the bathroom door.

"Help! I can't see, it's dark!" cried a little voice.

"Just light the lamp, dearie," he called.

"It's too dark to see it!"

"Can you light a match then?" asked Jasmine. "There's matches on the shelf where the lamp was."

"I'm not supposed to play with matches. Mom said I could burn the house down."

"It's all right, dearie. I can unlock the door, just give me a minute," he began.

"No! You can't come in here! I'm in my underwear!"

"Belle!" Rumplestiltskin called. "Would you come over here, please? One of your daughters is locked in the bathroom and she won't let me come in because she's . . . uh . . . undressed."

"That must be June," Belle said, having done a quick head count. "June, darling, let Rum unlock the door so I can help you."

"Mom! Mom, I was putting my nightie on and the thunder scared me . . . and now it's dark! I hate the dark!" June sobbed, panicking.

Rumple chanted a quick spell to unlock the door.

As the door swung open, there came a sudden blaze of light.

Belle rushed forward and stopped. "Blessed gods!"

June was glowing like a torch. "Mom! I can see!"

"June . . . you're glowing!"

"I am? Wow! I am!" the little girl grinned, looking in awe at her hands.

"Her magic's awakened, Belle," said Rumplestiltskin gently.

"Magic? Me?" June's eyes looked as if they were about to fall out of her head.

"You can make light, how neat!" Jasmine exclaimed. "And I've got magic too. With plants and animals."

Belle quickly stepped inside the bathroom and tugged June's nightie over her head. "How do you turn her off, Rum?"

"Well, you just—"

June quit glowing an instant later. "Hey! Where'd it go?"

"The magic only lasts a little while, dearie. Especially at your age. Until you learn how to control it."

"How do I do that?"

"I'll teach you, June. Along with Jasmine, Ivy, Finn, Ariel and Kristen," Rumple said.

"They all have magic too?" Jasmine squeaked.

"Yes. But we'll talk about that tomorrow," Rumple said.

"It's almost bedtime for little girls," Belle said.

"I'm not little!" Jasmine declared. "I'm almost grown-up!"

June yawned. "I'm sleepy, Mom. Can I lay with you till the thunder's all gone?"

Belle picked her up. "Of course you can, Junie."

"Do I have to go to bed too, Papa?" Jasmine asked. "I'm not tired at all."

"In a little while, child. But June, Clary, and Phillip can go first," Rumple told her as they headed back to the den. This had been a day of unexpected surprises. But at least no one had gotten hurt or almost died yet. He wondered how the children would get along when Belle and he went on their honeymoon trip to the seashore. Hopefully they wouldn't mutiny and tie Jefferson to a chair or something while he was away.

**A/N: And now the fun really begins!**


	12. Honeymoon By the Sea

**12**

**Honeymoon By the Sea**

Belle packed up their bags for the honeymoon trip while Rumplestiltskin went over some last minute details with Jefferson about the children before they left for the small cottage by the seashore that he had rented for a week for their honeymoon. He was hoping it would provide a relaxing respite from dealing with all eighteen siblings for a time, something that he thought Belle and he badly needed. But, as he reminded Jeff, "Just because we're going on vacation isn't an excuse for the children to not do their chores and wreck the castle while we're gone."

"Yeah, Rum. I know the drill. No wild parties, no alcohol, and no kissing in the closet," Jeff recited with a bored look.

"That goes for you too," Rumple said.

"Me? Now who would I find to have a wild party with?" Jefferson asked innocently.

"Well, Alice is still staying with her company at the inn. From what I remember, you both seemed to hit it off rather well at the wedding. And nobody knows how to drink like a mercenary on leave."

Jeff grimaced. "Don't remind me. I've never had a woman beat me in a drinking contest before, buddy."

"Well, don't go trying to one up her when you're watching my kids."

"Wouldn't dare." He clapped Rumple on the shoulder. "Go and have a good time with your bride, old pal. Everything's under control here. If they give me any lip, I'll make 'em run laps around the castle, like my old captain used to do to me when I mouthed off to him."

"You must have been running everyday then!" laughed his friend.

"You're hilarious," Jefferson grunted.

"Belle showed you where all the medicines are, right? And if something happens, like one of them gets hurt or sick, don't hesitate to call me using my two-way mirror."

"And Regina can't home in on that, right?"

"No. I've got it so it only works back and forth, paired to the mirror I have with me. Besides, it's so small I doubt she can sense it."

"I'll only use it if I have to," Jefferson promised. "Oh, and Rum—wear some sunscreen—otherwise you'll look like a broiled lobster."

Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "Humph! I intend to swim only in the evening, when the sun sets. Not as many people around." He turned to see Bae coming inside, looking rather grungy. "What happened to you?"

"Flicker threw me," he said with a disgusted tone. "Damn temperamental colt!"

"Are you okay?" Rum asked, concerned.

"Fine, Papa. My pride's bruised, is all. Lucky Rennie wasn't there to see that."

"The colt's skittish, you know that," Rumple sighed. "Make sure you keep Jack and the younger kids off his back, Baelfire."

"Uh huh. Otherwise we'll end up with an epidemic of broken arms or something, I know."

"You'll help Uncle Jeff with them while we're gone. I'm giving you permission to discipline them like I would, Bae. You and Jeff both. You know what that means."

"Can I extend that power to Rennie?" Bae asked. "She's better with the girls than I am."

"Meaning she won't let them run all over you," his father translated. "Yes, that's okay. Remember, chores before playing and try to keep the castle neat, Bae. I don't want Belle to have the vapors if she comes home and it looks like the Card Captors were staying over."

"My mom—have a fit?" Rafe laughed, having arrived and heard the last part of the conversation. "Yeah, she'd have one, all right. Then she'd make us scrub every inch of the place on our hands and knees with a bucket of vinegar and rosewood oil."

"She do that to you?"

"Yeah, and it was the last time I ever forgot to have my sisters and brothers clean the house before she got home. It took days for the blisters on my hands to heal," Rafe winced. "I'll help keep my sibs in line, Bae. They tend to mind what I say. Mostly. And if not, there's always the standard wait till Mom gets home. That usually scares the little brats straight."

"Sounds like you four have things well in hand. I'll see you in a week then." Rumplestiltskin said. Then he went to call Belle and see if she was done packing yet so they could get started on their trip. It would take them about three hours or so by coach to reach the cottage, then they could relax, have a light lunch, and walk on the beach.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Tom woke up to find Peter's hazel eyes peering at him through the window of his small room. The room was actually a scale model of part of a castle, Rumple and Jeff had built it for him so he could have a place of his own that was just his size. There were all the amenities in it, like a four poster bed with real sheets and comforter and three pillows each stuffed with two goose feathers. There was an armoire and a dresser, mirror, small rug and a trunk. Under the window was a seat and there was also a sofa, tiny end table, and a bookshelf with books Rumple had shrunk down to Tom's size. There was even a bathroom with real running water and a toilet. It was almost like living in his own house.

It was set securely on a large table, cemented there by magic so no one could knock over the room by accident. There was a ramp leading down to the floor, Tom had a tiny wagon that he used to go down it and across the floor, it could be directed to go faster or slower by voice command. Rumple had wanted to make it as easy as possible for him to get around the castle without worrying about people stepping on him. Or having to be carried, though his brothers and sisters never refused him a ride.

"Good morning!" Peter said cheerily. "Wow, it's like a doll house or something!"

"_Don't_ call it a dollhouse," Tom said, crawling out of bed. "It's a mini scale model. You know about architecture?"

Peter shook his head. "No. You know how to skin a rabbit?"

"Can't. It'd be like skinning an elephant," Tom replied, pulling on his shoes. "But I know how to trap and kill flies. Ants and termites too. Even mice, if they're little enough."

"You're a . . . fly catcher?" Peter's eyes widened.

"Yup. The best around here. I can knock out a fly at forty paces with my bow and arrows," Tom said proudly. He showed Peter the tiny bow and arrows made of thorns. "See? They work just as well as normal ones."

"That's so cool! You make 'em?"

"Uh huh. I can also use my sling. Gravel makes a good slingshot." Tom said.

"Bet it stings. I never thought about a kid your size being able to . . . uh . . . fight like that," Peter admitted.

"The fairies do, so I figured so can I. They made most of my clothes out of felt scraps and cobwebs and bits of leather. Just 'cause I'm small doesn't mean I'm helpless."

"Yeah, but . . . do you do chores and stuff too?" asked Peter curiously.

"Yes, Papa always says everyone has to help out. I can dust and wash things, as long as someone puts polish on the dust cloth or soap on a sponge."

"How?"

Tom laughed. "It's easy! I just jump on the sponge or the cloth and skate with it all over."

"That sounds like fun."

"It is. And I do my part at the same time."

"You sure are clever," Peter said.

"Nah. Papa thought that one up. He always says size doesn't matter if your brain works. He doesn't think like ordinary people, see? My real folks . . . they didn't know what to do with me when I didn't grow like a normal kid."

"How come you're . . . uh . . . small? Is it like a curse?"

"No. I was born like this. Got some pixie ancestry by way of my great-great grandpa or something like that. But I'm mostly human, so the pixie part skipped my dad and brothers. But not me. They're all farmers. When they realized I wasn't ever going to get bigger, they decided to sell me, 'cause I couldn't work the farm."

Peter goggled. "That's awful! My parents died in the Great Fever Epidemic. I was three. Then I went to live with old Miranda at Shoe House. Mom adopted me after she inherited the house. But at least my parents never sold me like a pair of boots."

"They weren't much brighter than a pair of boots. None of 'em could read, or figure much beyond twenty or how many rows of corn were in the field," Tom said. "And they thought because I was little, I had to be protected all the time. My mother wouldn't even let me go outside. I was so bored I wanted to die. And all the neighbors used to come and stare at me—little Tom Thumb they called me and some of them poked at me like I was some kind of freak. I was glad when Papa bought me for a bag of gold. At least he treats me like a person, not some object."

"He seems like a pretty good guy. Better than most stepfathers," Peter said philosophically.

"He's a great father, Pete. He taught me to read and write and a bunch of other stuff. He calls me his son, and treats me like a regular boy, not some itty baby. I'm as much a Gold as Bae is."

"Huh. I wonder if I'll ever feel like that?"

"You can. Papa could adopt you, like he did me, Jack, Jasmine, Elaina, Finn, and Clary."

"I'll have to think about it. Need help getting down?"

"Nope. Got the wagon for that. Watch!" Tom ran over to the miniature wagon and hopped inside. "Go!" he shouted, and the wagon rolled right down the ramp and onto the floor.

Peter stared as Ton made it go in circles until his hair stood up. "Wish I had something like that."

"Ask Papa or Bae. They can build you one," Tom said. "I can go almost anywhere in the castle like this. But I gotta be careful not to trip people. Elaina fell over this once and sprained her ankle."

"Better watch out for Puss," Peter warned.

"Puss?"

"Phillip's cat. She's around here somewhere. A big gray and white female."

Tom swallowed. "I don't like cats too much. They . . . like to stalk me."

"I'll watch out for her. She's shy and hides from most everyone 'cept Phil. Her full name's Puss in Boots, 'cause she hid in one of Rafe's boots as a kitten and he almost stepped on her." Peter said.

Just then they heard Jeff calling them. "Breakfast, boys! Come and get it!"

"Whoo hoo! Race you downstairs!" Tom whooped and the wagon shot out the door and down the hall.

Peter ran after it, though he thought he could win when they came to the stairs, because how could Tom get the wagon down the steps? To his shock, as he raced down, he saw Tom drive the wagon right up the newel post and coast down the banister.

Even though Peter was bigger and running, the small boy managed to get ahead of him.

"Aww, pond scum!"

"Should have warned you about that trick," Finn said affably as he jumped down two stairs at a time. "Tom's quicker than a greased pig with that wagon of his."

"Yeah, I can see that," Peter said ruefully as he followed them into the dining room.

"He's also really smart, so if you can't figure something out, just ask him. Or Ivy. They're the brains of the family . . . besides Papa," Finn told him.

"Finn, you're not dumb. Just impulsive," Bae said, joining them.

"Yeah, but not as bad as Jack. Jack invented the word," Finn said.

"You can say that again!" Bae chuckled, then slid into his usual place at the table. He wondered how Belle and Rum were faring.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

At the cottage by the sea, Belle woke feeling refreshed and energized. Last night they had arrived, taken some time to unpack and gone walking along the beach. It was so pleasant to be able to take time for herself, in fact she couldn't remember the last time she had done something just for fun, and not because she needed to. She also couldn't recall the last time she had done anything relaxing for herself. She had spent a few hours here and there with Rumplestiltskin on market day, but the rest of the week was usually filled with patients coming to call and minding the house, garden, and children. After all that, she usually fell into bed exhausted. The weeks until the wedding had been filled with exhausting spurts of work and anticipation.

But last night there had been no one to look out for, no one who asked advice about this or that medical problem, and the only thing she had to worry about was what sandals to wear on the beach and what she was going to eat at the small tavern that sold freshly caught seafood on a daily basis. None of the locals came up to her and pestered her and she could enjoy her food and Rum's company in blessed peace.

Rumple and she shared a pot of broiled clams with oregano and melted butter, freshly baked flatbread, and a dish of spaghetti topped with mussels, scallops, shrimp, and crab in a flavorful white wine broth that was so good Belle wished she had the recipe.

"Oh! Gods, Rum, this is the best thing I've ever tasted!" she sighed rapturously as he fed her another forkful.

"Same here. Want to order another plate, dearie?" he queried.

"I couldn't! I love it, but . . . I'd eat too much and become like a house. My body doesn't burn off all those calories like I used to," she said regretfully.

"I've heard swimming burns lots of them. As well as something else we missed out on," he teased.

"Rum, you're such a rogue!" she giggled. "You make me feel like a new bride again."

"Dearie, you _are_ a new bride. Mine. And I intend to indulge you in every guilty pleasure your heart desires," he purred. "After all, that's what honeymoons are for."

"I can't believe we're actually married."

"Believe it. Do you want some more?" he waved the fork in front of her.

"You first," she smirked, and fed him some pasta and seafood. Thank the gods no one was paying attention to them, for she was acting like a silly girl with her first crush instead of the mature woman with ten children she was.

"Your turn," he twirled some spaghetti with his fork and topped it off with some shrimp.

"Mmm . . . I feel like I've died and gone to heaven."

"Just wait till later, dearie. _Then_ you can say that."

"Oh? Is it true that sorcerers don't wear anything beneath their robes?" she teased.

He laughed huskily. "You'll see. Want some dessert? I hear they have homemade key lime pie."

"Oh! I love that, but I'm almost too full to eat it," she said.

"So? We'll order it anyway. Whatever we don't eat we can give to that waif who carried our bags up to the cottage today. He's probably some orphan fisher brat who never gets any tips and is starving."

"Then you believed his tale about some crippled grandmother?"

"Hardly. The grandmother's probably fake, but the fact that he's in need of food isn't," Rumple said.

"Well, don't get any ideas about taking him home, Rum!"

He chuckled. "No way, Belle! Eighteen is enough for any sane man right now." He placed an order for the pie.

Afterwards, they gave what was left of the pie and some bread to the skinny boy who was curled up on a bench near the docks. He thanked them profusely. "Marco will not forget such kindness, milord and lady!" he said, then bowed and raced off into the night to devour the unexpected treat.

Belle and Rum walked along the quiet shore and listened to the hush of the waves and held each other's hand. The wind was soft and cool at their backs and the moon glistened on the water like a pearl from the depths.

"She walks in beauty, like the night," Rumple said.

Belle looked at him. "You're talking about me?"

"Of course. That's what your name means."

"It does. My father was rather proud of the fact that I wasn't ugly, like my cousin Marissa. What does Rumplestiltskin mean?"

"You're the first one to ever ask me that, dearie. And the fact is . . . I have no idea. I think it's a name from another language, my mother told me it belonged to some ancient kin of mine. But that's all I know about it. Except it gave me fits to spell as a child."

"Ah, a man of mystery!"

"Like any sorcerer worth his salt," he smirked.

"_My_ sorcerer," she murmured.

"Always, dearie," he said tenderly.

Before she knew it, he had swept her in his arms and kissed her. And that was only the beginning.

Somehow they made it back to the cottage, where he showed her exactly what she'd been missing with Gaston. A great deal, it turned out, for he was one who did not take pleasure for himself before seeing to hers first, and his fingers were magical, making her crave his touch like an aphrodisiac.

When at last she lay wearily in his arms, she whispered, "Rum?"

"Yes, dearie?"

"Where in seven hells did you learn how to make love like that? Gaston was. . . he considered himself an ardent lover, but he never . . . I never felt this way with him . . . not ever . . . Did your first wife . . .?"

"Milah? Dearie, no! I was naught but a starry eyed lad when Milah married me. I knew more about spinning than I did about girls. It was good for awhile between us, but . . . she always wanted something more . . . something I could never give her . . . No, Belle, it was never like this for me either. Until you."

"Then how . . .?"

Rumple shrugged. "Instinct, I guess. I felt it the very first time we touched over that cabbage."

"It was a turnip."

"Whatever it was, the connection was there. And it still is. When I touch you, dearie . . . I feel you . . . I know you . . . and I know what will please you best . . ."

"Do I do the same to you?"

"You should know the answer to that, my rose. Hell, yes!"

She felt a delicious shiver run through her then. She had never been wanted so by any man. It was a heady feeling. "I love you, Rum," she whispered, and then she proceeded to show him just how much. . .

"Are you awake, love?" Rumplestitlskin leaned over her, his breath tickling her ear.

"Now I am. Good morning!" she smiled up at him, her hair a tousled ebony curtain upon the pillow.

"It's a lovely morning. Just right for a quick swim in the ocean."

"Where did you learn how to swim?" she asked, rising.

"In a stream. After you've been nearly drowned by bigger kids you learn pretty quickly," he answered softly.

"You . . . they picked on you?"

"Every day. I was this skinny kid, with a big mouth, and too smart to shut up and too stupid to know when to run away. Earned myself a lot of black eyes and bloody noses. Until I met Jeff and he used to beat up some of the boys who liked to pound on me."

"Oh, Rum! That's horrible! But didn't your magic . . .?"

"It slept then. It only awakened later, when I had the dagger of the Dark One."

"I'm sorry. That's so . . . different from my childhood. I mean, I was a bookish shy princess, and sometimes other noble girls laughed at me, but never to my face. And my father was busy, but he never forgot about me."

"Good. No one should have to live like I did then," Rumple said. "But I survived. And now look at me, married to the woman I love, with eighteen children, my curse broken, and my magic thriving. That's more than I ever thought I'd have."

"I'm so glad we bumped into each other that day. It was the best day of my life."

"Mine too. Now, do you want to swim with me?"

"Give me a minute to put something on."

"I like you just the way you are," he grinned lasciviously.

"You want other men looking at me like this?" she asked impishly.

"Not unless they want to become snails," he replied.

She quickly put on a bathing costume, and then they splashed and played in the surf for fifteen minutes, as joyful and uninhibited as seals gliding through the cobalt waters.

They spent several days indulging themselves, but all good things come to an end, and their idyllic interlude ended rather abruptly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On the morning of the seventh day, Jefferson called Rum on the mirror.

Rumple picked it up immediately, they were having a leisurely breakfast in bed of fresh fruit, crepes, salmon, and ham washed down with coffee flavored with coconut milk. "What happened, Jeff? Is anyone dead?"

"Dead?" Belle gasped.

He waved her to silence.

"No, everyone's fine. I'm sorry I had to call you like this, buddy, but . . . Regina's summoned me back to court."

"Damn!"

"Yeah, I know. We were all having a great time here, Alice and I were teaching the kids some sword forms and how to ride and then . . . Regina calls. And she doesn't care that I'm still on leave. Wants me there yesterday. And Alice left with her company last night, so I can't even have her cover for me. I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Jeff. We'll manage. Bring the kids here, we can have a day at the beach together."

"I really wish I could tell Regina to find another advisor, but I need this job, Rum."

"Don't do that. Just bring the kids here, Jeff. Then leave."

"On our way."

Rumple tucked the mirror back in his pocket then said, "Looks like we've got company, dearie."

Belle sighed. "The best laid plans . . ."

"Yes. But let's enjoy our breakfast before the mob gets here," he said, eating a piece of ham. It had been a great honeymoon while it lasted.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Once Jefferson arrived with all eighteen children, the idyllic cottage was bursting at the seams. There were kids all over, upstairs, downstairs, in the yard, and on the beach. Marco, the little porter, almost fell over when he saw how many kids converged upon the cottage. "All these—_yours_?" he gasped, looking at Rum and Belle in shock.

"Ours, yes," Belle replied.

"Gracious gods!" Then he took off, muttering something in a local dialect that was probably a prayer for the insane.

Rumple took Bae, Rennie, Elaina, Rafe, June, Jasmine, and Nick with him to visit the little fishing village and get them something to eat, they were starving.

Belle wanted to try and finish the book she was reading, so she stayed at the cottage with the others. Finn, Ivy, Clary, and Ariel wanted to go on the beach, and the others wanted to take a nap, they were rather cranky from the ride here, which had been bumpy and uncomfortable.

"I think I got a permanent bruise on my bottom," Phillip complained to Belle. "That coach had no springs."

"You'll be fine, Phillip. Take a nap, you'll feel better."

She sat on the porch and read while most of them went upstairs and napped.

"Ivy, can you help me build a sandcastle?" asked Clary as they made their way down to the shore.

"Of course, snippet. We'll build a big one, so the ocean can't wash it away," Ivy said, and picked a spot somewhat down the beach to start building.

While the girls built, Finn sat upon the dunes with Ariel and played his flute. He had been to the seashore a long time ago with his real parents, but he hardly remembered anything. Except the tang of the sea air and the sweet shushing of the waves.

Ariel gazed out at the sea, a wistful look on her face. She could hear the familiar song of the sea and it called to her. "Finn, play me something. Something loud and wild, so I can't hear anything but that."

He looked at her. "It's the sea, isn't it? You miss it."

"It's like a fever in my blood," Ariel whispered.

"Why don't you go swim in it?"

"No. If I did . . . I can never go back, Finn. And I would want to . . . I want to now, even though I know I can't . . ." Huge tears glistened in her aqua eyes.

"Don't cry, Ari. I can make you forget. For a little while," Finn said, then he began to play, a rollicking country tune that usually made people want to dance. He played loud enough to drown out the hissing waves, using a bit of magic to surround them with his music.

Ariel listened to his music, letting the notes wash over her, soothing her longing and restless spirit. She would always feel the pull of the sea, it was in her blood, but Finn's music could take her away for a time, and quell the aching need to swim and feel the embrace of the salt water and recall that once she had been a daughter of the ocean, a child of wind and waves, a mermaid of Atlantis.

Finn halted for a moment, needing to breathe after that solo. "Is that better?"

"Yes. Play some more. Something I can sing to."

"Well, I do have a new piece. Something I made . . . for Papa and Belle. To celebrate their wedding," he said shyly. "Want to hear it? I just finished it yesterday."

Ariel grinned. "Please! Are there words?"

"Yes, but I don't know how good the lyrics are yet," Finn said. He began to play, making the flute sing, the notes dancing higher and higher into the salty air. He played until he had Ariel swaying along with the music, then he used his magic to keep the flute playing on its own while he sang, in a clear voice,

"Once there was a sorcerer

Whose touch spun straw to gold,

He came unto the market,

His magic potions to be sold.

He chanced upon a beauty,

Walking along the way,

And his lonely heart was captured,

True love's magic bade her stay . . ."

He sang the song through to the end, then looked expectantly at Ariel. "How'd that sound? Okay?"

"Finn, it was . . ."

"Terrible? You can say so, I'm not a really good composer yet."

"No! It was lovely! Play it again, and this time let me sing with you," Ariel urged. She had heard many compositions as a mermaid, some good, some bad, but this one had such passion, and was so heartfelt, she almost cried.

"Ready?" He set the flute to his lips and began to play.

Ariel began to sing, her voice as sweet as honey and clear as a bell.

Finn smiled inwardly and began playing excitedly, allowing himself to become swept up in the music, as often happened to him. It wasn't just the magic that made him a superb flute player, it was that he loved the music for its own sake, and nothing made him happier then when he was playing arias upon an instrument. He could make the music come alive, practically seeing the notes in the air, and when he played a song, he became that song, for just an instant.

Ariel understood, the music was as much a part of her soul as it was his, she sang as easily as breathing, because it was instinctive.

Playing, for him, was as natural as Jack riding a horse, or Ivy cooking, and he could hardly stand to go a day without performing some kind of tune on his flute. Rum's punishment for the spiked drink was, therefore, horrible for him, he had hardly known what to do with himself and would tap his fingers on anything just to make sound, he didn't dare play another instrument, and would have surrendered willingly to a spanking just to have his flute back early.

Now he composed out of sheer delight, as if he needed to make up for lost time, his fingers weaving their way effortlessly across the flute's glossy surface, bringing forth music enough to make a stone weep.

Suddenly he stopped. "Ariel? Why've you stopped singing—?"

He started to turn, wondering what was wrong, when something hit him on the back of the head and the world went dark. He crumpled to the sand, the flute falling to lie like an offering to the sea gods upon the windswept beach.

His playing had covered the sounds of a boat as it moored further along the beach, and the footsteps of several pirates as they disembarked along with their captain and his first mate, who was also his wife. They had crept upon the four children like sharks from the deep, and quickly knocked them out and stuffed the girls into sacks and hoisted them over their shoulders.

Their captain hesitated, holding a sword to the unconscious Finn's throat.

"What we do with this 'un, Cap'n Hook?" asked his bo'sun.

"He's a sorcerer's brat! Did you hear him playing—like a siren he was, calling from the deep. I don't want him on my ship," spat Hook, glaring at the boy. "He could magic us all. Best to kill him before he wakes."

"No, James!" a slender hand grabbed his wrist before he could raise his scimitar. "It's bad luck to kill a magician, even one as young as he is," Milah cautioned. "His ghost shall haunt us and slay us all."

"You're not afraid of his father, are you, love?" asked Hook, pausing.

Milah sneered. "Of Rumplestiltskin? That coward couldn't make a worm quiver, much less me. It's why I left him. But we have what we came for, what Regina paid us for, so leave the boy be. He'll wake up with a sore head and not remember anything anyway."

"All right. Have it your way, Milah. I don't need some ghost wailing at me day and night," Hook sheathed his sword. "Let's be off then, before we're spotted. Those girls will fetch a pretty doubloon at the slave market, does Regina decide to sell them."

"That's Regina's business, husband," Milah said tightly. "Best not to concern ourselves with what she does. Or why she wants them." She didn't tell Hook, but she had spared the boy out of more than fear of a haunting, in a way he reminded her of Bae, whom she had abandoned as a little boy. She turned to go back to where the rowboat was pulled up on the beach.

Hook kicked the boy with his boot. "Worthless sorcerer scum!" He hated magic and hated those who wielded it, like his blasted enemy, Peter Pan. His boot nudged the flute Finn had been playing, and with malicious glee, he brought his foot down hard on the delicate instrument, snapping it in two.

Guffawing loudly, Hook turned and rejoined his men. He wanted to be sailing as soon as possible, before anyone discovered what he was about. Regina wanted these captives as soon as possible.

**A/N: Okay, I admit I was drooling while writing that scene with Belle and Rum eating, because I LOVE seafood pasta. Were you too? And now . . . what will happen to the girls?**


	13. Kidnapped!

**13**

**Kidnapped!**

About twenty minutes after Hook and his captives had set sail, Rumplestiltskin and the rest of the children came home, with some fresh seafood salad, crabcakes, bread, and grilled vegetables for the rest of the family. Belle was dozing on the porch, her book in her lap, and Rumple woke her with a light kiss.

"Yuck!" Nick squinched up his face in disgust when he saw that. "Why do grown-ups kiss each other all the time?"

Rumple cast an amused glance his way. "It's a normal thing to do when you love your spouse, Nicholas."

"And they've just been married too," added Bae. "Newlyweds kiss all the time."

"I think I'm gonna hurl," Nick said.

"Oh, get inside and call the others," Rafe ordered, giving the little boy a light shove. "Little self-righteous prig!"

"Oh, he'll figure it out when he's older and some girl catches his eye," Elaina smirked. She kissed Rafe lightly on the cheek before she went inside the house with a bag of food.

Belle woke leisurely and grinned at Rumple. "I smell something wonderful."

"We brought you back some lunch, dearie."

"Good, because all of a sudden I'm ravenous," she said. "But you'd better go down to the beach and call the girls and Finn to eat. Ariel, Clary, and Ivy went with him."

"I'll go fetch them," Rumple said.

"I'll come with you," Bae said. "I need to walk around a little after eating so much. I feel like a stuffed goose."

The two headed down the small path to the beach.

Bae reached the beach first, he was faster than Rumplestiltskin even on his best day, and looked up and down, not seeing his younger siblings anywhere. He began to call for them. "Finn, Clary, Ivy, Ariel! It's time to come home!"

But nothing stirred and no one answered him. Feeling dreadfully uneasy, he looked out to sea, trying to spot one of them swimming or something. But the ocean was empty and only the waves crashed to shore.

"I don't see them anywhere, Papa," he said to Rumple, who was slowly making his way over to him. "Do you think they've gone back to the cottage and we missed them?"

Rumple shook his head. "No. There's only one path down here." Then he nearly tripped over Finn's limp body lying on the sand. "Great gods! Finn! Finn, can you hear me?" He went down on his knees in the sand and felt the boy's neck for a pulse.

"Papa, what happened to him?" Bae cried, aghast. "Is he . . . alive?"

"Yes . . . yes, he's just . . . unconscious. There's a lump on the back of his head the size of an egg," Rumple said, gently probing. His fingers came away stained with blood. "We need to get him back to the cottage. Let Belle look at him."

"Where are the girls?"

"I don't know, Bae. But it looks like something happened to them. Finn didn't fall, he must have been . . ."

"He was attacked, milord," spoke up a small voice.

"Who are you?" asked Bae suspiciously.

"I am Marco, I help the great lord here with his bags," the skinny waif said proudly. "I was down by the docks and I saw her—the ship, _Blood Heart_. She was flying the Jolly Roger, milord, and we all know who she belongs to."

Rumple stared up at Marco, gritting his teeth. "That's Hook's ship!"

"Yes, milord. Cap'n Hook's ship. He came ashore himself, with his pirate lady and they took the little girls away. I saw it, but they didn't see me. I was hiding behind the dunes."

"Milah!" spat Rumple suddenly.

Bae looked sick. "She took the girls?" He glared at Marco. "Why didn't you do something to help them, wharf rat?"

"Me? They kill me, sir, quick as look at me! Marco's no fool. I wait till they leave, then I come down here. The boy—your brother—he's alive. Lucky. I found this in the sand by him." He held out the pieces of Finn's broken flute.

"Finn's flute!" Bae gasped. "Oh, gods! He'll be so upset when he finds out it's broken." He took the flute halves from Marco and tucked them in his belt pouch. "You're sure the pirates took my sisters?"

"Yes, sir. I saw," Marco nodded.

"But why?" Bae asked.

"Slaves, most likely," Marco replied. "They pretty girls, fetch top price at the market in the Enchanted Forest."

"Regina!" hissed Rumple, furious. "I'd lay odds _she's_ behind this. I'd better contact Uncle Jeff. Maybe he can look for the girls if they happen to land near there. Meantime, let's get Finn back to the cottage."

"I'll carry him, Papa," Bae said. He helped Rumple to his feet, then bent and gently picked up Finn.

"Thank you, Marco," said Rumple to the boy. He gave the boy the rest of the gold in his pocket.

Marco's eyes went wide. Then he whispered, "This . . . is too much, milord! I've never . . ."

"Keep it. My son's life is worth any price," Rumple told him, then he followed in Bae's footsteps.

Marco scurried away, amazed at his good fortune.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was horrified when she heard the news. But the Healer in her immediately set to work when Bae brought Finn into the extra room. "Put him face down on the bed, Bae. Rennie, I need some hot water, some vinegar if we have any, and some soft cloths for bandages."

As her daughter went about getting her what she needed, Belle carefully took Finn's pulse, peered at his eyes with a lit match, and laid her hands on his head. She wished she had her bag of herbal cures with her, but she had left it at the castle. So she made do with her small Gift, using it to reduce the swelling on Finn's head and she gently inspected him for any other injuries.

"Will he be okay, Belle?" asked Rumple. He was nearly out of his mind with fear for his girls and worried that his son was badly injured.

"He has a mild concussion and a cut on his head. I don't know if I'll need to stitch it yet, not until I wash it and see how deep it is, Rum. He's also got some bruised ribs, like he was kicked."

"Bastards!" Rumple swore. "They broke his flute too."

"Oh, Rum!" Belle cried, for she knew how much the flute meant to Finn.

"But I can fix it. Can you heal him, Belle?"

"Yes. He'll be a few days recovering though. Can we track the girls?"

Rumple pursed his lips. "Water's not my strong suit, dearie. I'm out of my element there. But let me contact Jefferson. He can help. And . . . I think . . . One of the selkies might owe me a favor. I helped one long ago, back when I was still a poor spinner."

"You mean the seal folk? How did you meet one?"

"He was a prisoner of this traveling carnival that stopped outside my village. All the young men in the village went there to gawk at the freak show. He was there, in a cage. I spoke with him, realized what he was. They treated him like vermin, the folk who ran the carnival. Saw him as subhuman, a freak. And I found where they hid his sealskin and helped him. When I helped him escape, he said he owed me a life debt. I'm hoping it's still good."

"Life debts remain until paid off," Belle reminded him softly. "Thank you, Rennie." She took the bowl of water and vinegar from her and the cloths.

"Mom, is Finn going to be okay?"

"He should be right as rain in a few days."

"What about Ariel, Ivy, and Clary?"

"They've been kidnapped by pirates, Rennie. We have to hope they are treated fairly well until we can get them back," Belle said worriedly.

"But we will get them back, right?" Rennie cried.

"Of course we will, dearie," Rumple assured her. "Let me call Jeff on the mirror while you tend to Finn." He went to rummage through his bag in the other bedroom for the magic mirror.

"Rennie, hold the lamp by me. I need the light," Belle ordered.

Rennie held the oil lamp over the bed, so Belle could see to wash Finn's head.

"Hmm. It's not as deep as I feared," Belle murmured, gently washing the cut with hot water and vinegar to prevent infection. "I think I can just bandage it." She sent a small amount of her power into the cut and half healed it before she wrapped Finn's head in bandages. "He'll have a bad headache when he wakes. I should make some willowbark tea. Rennie, look in my bag. I should have some in a small pouch, I always carry it."

Rennie left and searched for the small pouch. "Found it!" she cried triumphantly a few minutes later.

"Good. I'll make some tea for him. It'll help with the pain." She gently placed more pillows under Finn's head and rolled him on his back. "Poor child! But you were lucky. They could have killed you." She smoothed the hair back from his bandaged head and tucked the covers around him. "Rennie, will you stay here and watch him in case he wakes?"

"Sure, Mom." Rennie took a seat in a chair beside the bed.

Belle took the pouch and went to make some tea.

Meanwhile, Rumple talked with Jeff on the mirror and found that he was already back at Regina's palace, having used his magical hat to travel the dimensions and return to the Enchanted Forest quickly. Jeff was horrified at what had occurred and agreed to keep his eyes and ears open for any news or sign of the girls' whereabouts. But he agreed with the sorcerer that their best bet to retrieving the girls was Rumple's selkie, who owed him a life debt.

"I'll have to go back to the castle and get the shell that the selkie lord left me." Rumple told Belle. "That's what I can use to summon him." He could use magic to go back to the castle.

"Go, love. I'll stay here with the children," Belle urged. She was terrified for the girls, afraid the pirates would harm them. Especially Ivy and Ariel, who were almost old enough to be counted women. Pirates did unspeakable things to young women.

Rumple vanished, and Belle set the cup of willowbark tea on the night table beside Finn, then she shooed Rennie out of the room and settled down to wait.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple found the shell he needed among a box of old magical objects in his workroom. He carefully placed it in his pocket, then went and found Belle's Healer bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then he transported himself back to the cottage on the wings of magic.

Finn was still asleep, so he left Belle with her bag of remedies, then went down to the seashore and holding the shell aloft, called upon the selkie he had freed so long ago. "Lord Ahern of the Black Water clan, I, Rumplestiltskin call upon you to repay your debt!" Three times he said those words and then he tossed the shell into the ocean.

The shell's magic would summon the selkie lord from wherever he happened to be. Rumple prayed it wouldn't take too long for the selkie to come. Then he returned to the cottage, sick at heart, to sit with Belle and wait for Finn to wake up. There was nothing he could do for his missing children right then, but he could be there for his son, and also mend his flute while he watched over the stricken boy.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Aboard the Blood Heart:_

It was early in the morning when Ivy awoke with a splitting headache. At first she thought she was in her room at the Dark Castle, but she soon realized she was not. The ship listed and Ivy felt herself sliding forward on the hard wooden deck. When she fetched up against the opposite wall, she tried to look around. The hold where she was kept with her sleeping sisters was small, barely the size of the kitchen pantry in the castle, and dim with the light of a single lamp high on the wall.

_Where are we?_ Ivy wondered, rubbing her head. The last thing she recalled was putting a moat around the sandcastle she had been making with Clary. After that . . . nothing. She tried to stand up, but found she was too dizzy . . . and for whatever reason the room felt like it was moving. So she put her head between her knees, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

When it did, she found the room was still moving. She felt it rock and sway . . . almost like . . . a ship. Were they on a ship? But how? And why?

Just then Ariel stirred and woke. "Where . . . I smell the sea all around me," she whispered, touching her head. "And I feel like I'm on water, not land."

"I think we're on water, Ari."

Ariel nodded. "Yes. This isn't land, it's a ship. I can hear the waves rocking against the sides." She leaned her head back against the wooden pilings. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure. I woke up here, the same as you." Ivy whispered. "If we are on a ship, how'd we get here?"

Ariel shrugged. "Someone must have brought us here."

"But who?"

Clary woke then, whimpering. "Oww! My head hurts! Papa! I want Papa!"

Ivy crawled back over and took Clary into her arms. "Shh, baby! Papa's not here right now. Just lie back in my arms and try not to move. Your headache will go away."

"Where is he, Ivy?"

Ivy bit her lip. She didn't know what to tell Clary, though she feared they were in very big trouble. "He's . . . umm . . . away right now, Clary."

"I want him. Where are we?"

"On a ship, Clary. Somewhere in the ocean."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Ivy said. "I wish I did."

She continued to hold Clary, feeling the headache she had woken with slowly start to subside. Now she could think more clearly. "Ariel . . . I think . . . we've been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Ariel repeated.

"Why else would we be in this room like this? On a ship?"

"Who's running the ship?" Ariel asked.

Before Ivy could say anything else, there came a sudden loud creak and the door was yanked open and a fat man dressed in a sailor's trousers, barefoot, with a white blouse on and a green kerchief over his half bald head came into the room.

"Ahoy, me lovelies! I sees you're awake!"

"Who are you?" demanded Ivy.

"And where are we?" asked Ariel.

"Where's my papa?" Clary whined.

The fat man chuckled. "Lots of questions ye have! I be Smee, bo'sun on the _Blood Heart._ Ever hear of her, lassies?"

Both Ariel and Ivy gasped. They knew, Ivy from rumors and books, and Ariel from her mer heritage, about the ship called _Blood Heart._

"That's—that's Captain Hook's ship," Ariel said, her eyes wide. "We've been kidnapped by pirates, Ivy!"

"Yup. He took ye all right!" Smee grinned. "Right out from under the nose of that bloody sorcerer, Rumplestiltskin."

Ivy glared at him. "You ought to turn this boat around right now and bring us back, before my father kills you."

"Yeah!" Clary added. "Papa has magic!"

"And he'll be very unhappy you stole us," Ivy added, trying not to shiver. Captain Hook was known as the worst pirate to ever sail the seven seas. His reputation was even worse than the Dark One's.

"First he'd have to catch us, girlie! And unless he can run on water, he'll never find us in time to get you back," Smee laughed.

"Oh, yes, he will!" Ivy shouted. "My father is the most powerful sorcerer in seven kingdoms or more."

"Papa can do anything!" Clary said.

"What do you want with us anyway?" asked Ariel.

Smee shrugged. "Best you ask the Cap'n that. Or First Mate Milah. All I knows is yer guests on the Blood Heart now. For a little while!"

"If we're guests, then why don't we have a proper room? Or food?" Ivy demanded.

"The ship's not used to carrying naught but the crew," Smee protested. "And whatever booty we can grab. We're pirates, not pleasure cruisers."

"I'm hungry, Ivy!" Clary cried.

Ivy stroked her hair. "Do you plan to feed us? Or are you going to starve us?"

"Perhaps some bread and water would sweeten your tongue, girl," said an icy hard voice from behind Smee.

Smee jumped and moved out of the way to admit a tall woman dressed in pirate garb with a cutlass at her waist. She had long black hair and her face was similar to Ivy's.

Ivy gulped hard. She did not recognize the woman, but she knew her all the same. She had left when Ivy was a baby, but Ivy remembered her father's stories about his first wife and how she had abandoned him and their children to become a pirate queen. Aboard Captain Hook's vessel. This was her long lost mother, Milah.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Finn woke to the sun shining in his face and quickly turned away, then he winced as his head protested. He had woken briefly last night, his head throbbing like seven hells, and been given some bitter willowbark tea by Belle to combat the headache. He had tried to spit it out, but Rumple had come and said quietly, "You need to drink that, Finn, lad. It'll help your head get better."

"Am I sick?" he had asked hoarsely.

"You have a bump on the head and a slight concussion. Now please, drink this. I promise it will help, even though it tastes nasty," Belle said.

So Finn had drank it, grimacing at the bitter taste. Once he had, he asked how he had hurt his head. "Did I fall or something? I don't remember anything except that Ariel stopped singing."

"No, you didn't fall. Someone knocked you out, Finn," Rumple had told him gravely. Then he went on to explain how they had found him and what Marco had seen.

By the time he had finished, Finn was dazed and sleepy from the tea and his eyes started to close in spite of himself.

Now, though, he was much more alert. He tried to sit up, and whimpered as pain stabbed him. But he persevered, and pushed himself up on the pillows. His head ached and he felt a little dizzy, but he remembered what he had been told last night. His sisters had been kidnapped by pirates! And not just any pirates, but Captain Hook himself. He wondered why they hadn't bothered taking him too. Then again, he was glad they hadn't. He had never done well on boats. They made him deathly ill.

He looked around for his flute and realized it was nowhere near him. He always slept with it on his bedside table. He coughed, and tried to get up, but found he was too weak to do so. Before he could try again, the door opened and Bae came in, followed by Belle carrying a tray with a mug and a bowl on it.

"Hey, rise and shine, maestro!" Bae called. Only he called Finn "maestro", which meant a master musician.

"Morning, Bae," Finn said. "Where's my flute? I need to get up and find it."

"Papa has it right now. He's fixing it," Bae told him. "Those pirates . . . they broke it. Remember? Papa said he told you last night."

Finn stared at his brother in horror. "They . . . _broke_ my flute?" His flute, the last thing he had of his minstrel parents, his most cherished possession . . . he couldn't believe it was gone.

"Finn, it's okay," Belle soothed, coming in with the tray. "Your father's fixing it right now. Here's some breakfast." She laid the tray across his lap.

"I'm not hungry."

"I'd like for you to at least try and eat this broth I made. It's chicken with some seaweed in it. It'll give you strength. And drink another cup of my tea. It has honey in it now, so it won't be as bitter." She felt his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible. My head hurts, my flute's broken, and my sisters are kidnapped," he half-growled. Really, how did she _think_ he felt?

"I need to test your vision," she said. "Can you follow my finger?" She began to move her index finger back and forth in front of his face.

His eyes tracked on her.

"Good. Do you know how old you are? Who I am?"

"I'm thirteen. And you're Belle, my stepmother," he answered.

"And where are we?"

"Umm . . . in some cottage. I think."

"Yes, that's right. And what's today's date?"

"Umm . . . June . . . I think it's a Sunday."

"Good! Your memory seems to not have been affected by your concussion." She gently touched his head and felt along his side. "Does that hurt?"

"A little, yeah."

"That's because you have some bruised ribs. Please try and drink the tea and eat something. You need to regain your strength. If you need to use the bathroom, Bae will bring you."

Finn blushed. He did, but he was almost too embarrassed to admit it. He shot his brother a quick pleading glance.

Bae understood and calmly pushed back the covers and said, "Come on. You can eat afterwards." He gently picked Finn up, as if he weighed no more than his flute, and carried him from the room.

"This sucks," Finn grumbled as Bae carried him back a few minutes later. "I feel like I'm Clary's age." Thinking about his little sister made him feel ill, so when Bae put him back in bed, he didn't eat right away, but just sat there, staring at the food before him—tea, broth, and some toast lightly buttered.

"I know, but Belle says in a few days you'll be better. If you eat," Bae urged, taking a seat next to his brother.

Sighing, Finn started to sip the tea. It was not as bad as last night. As he spooned up some of the broth, he said, "I wonder if they're feeding them, wherever they are?"

"Don't go borrowing trouble, Finn."

"I'm not. But it's my fault they're gone."

"Kid, what are you, out of your mind?" Bae frowned at him. "How were you to know pirates roamed that section of beach?"

"I should have watched out for them, Bae. Instead, I was so busy playing that I didn't even realize what was happening until too late. I could have done something . . .if I was paying attention."

"You mean with your magic? Finn, they planned to surprise you, little brother. You were outnumbered and even if you did manage to put a few to sleep or whatever, the rest would have attacked you, maybe even killed you. They let you live because they didn't think you were a threat to them. Their stupidity was a good thing, Finn."

Finn nibbled a piece of toast and said, "Yeah, they thought I was worthless, how wonderful is that?"

"_That_ is incredible," Rumple stated, walking into the room, Finn's mended flute tucked under an arm. He waved Bae away and sat down next to Finn on the bed. Bae quietly walked out of the room, knowing that only his father could get through to Finn when he was like this. "They would have gained a prize beyond price had they captured you, lad, a trained magic wielder. _If_ they did so and didn't cut your throat for being too dangerous. Pirates detest sorcerers of any stripe, Finn. Usually they stick a knife in us and consider it done. Had you shown any signs of being able to hurt them, that's what they would have done."

Finn set down his spoon and hissed, "So I'm supposed to be glad they left me behind because I couldn't fight back?"

"Yes! Because now they can't use you to make them help you. And I don't have to worry about fighting my son."

"Your son's a damn coward, Papa," Finn spat bitterly.

Rumple laid a hand over the agitated boy's. "No, my son's a stubborn fool who's not listening to his father. If you had seen them coming_, _what could you have done? Froze a few of them, maybe put one or two to sleep with a spell? It takes a lot of magic to do that. And it still might not have been enough_. _Then they'd have seen you had power, seen you as a threat, not just a boy playing a few tunes on his flute. And they'd have killed you quick as blinking. If you'd done anything else, you'd not be talking to me right now. You survived, Finn Gold, and there is _nothing_ cowardly about that."

"But . . . but I was supposed to protect them!" Finn sniffled. He was their older brother, well, he was Clary's, and he'd failed. Sudden tears gathered in his eyes.

"Ah, Finn! You're thirteen, you're not expected to fight off hardened cutthroats like some bard in a tale. I would _never_ expect that, I don't care how strong your magic is."

"I just let them take Ariel, Clary, and Ivy," Finn continued, the pain of their loss and guilt overwhelming him. "I'm sorry, Papa!" He hung his head, more tears dribbling down his face.

Rum gently pulled his head up. "You have nothing to feel sorry for, Finn. And we'll get them back. I promise it." Then he did something he hadn't done in awhile, he hugged the boy hard, holding him half on his lap, like he did Clary.

Finn didn't draw away, instead he pressed his face into Rum's shoulder and sobbed. He couldn't remember crying like this in a long time, not since his parents had been killed that day, but Rum had held him then too, and right then he was scared and wretched, and his father's strong arms about him comforted him like nothing else.

"Shh, lad. The selkie will come and we'll find them," Rum soothed, stroking Finn's hair, which was partially covered by a white bandage. His heart ached, both for his poor son and his missing daughters, and he was furious with himself for not realizing that Regina might not try and get back at him for rejecting her, even though no promises had been spoken between them and nothing had come of that disastrous date. He should have known better. A spurned sorceress was always dangerous. "This isn't your fault, lad. It's mine," he said softly.

"It's no one's fault except those with greed and evil in their hearts," Belle stated, she had come back to see if Finn needed anything. She came and sat on the opposite side of her husband and hugged both of them. They were all reeling in shock and hurting from loss of the missing children. "But we can't lose hope. Hope is love, it fuels our dreams. When I came to Shoe House, fleeing the troll army, my kingdom destroyed, do you know what my aunt told me? She said that guilt serves no purpose but to chain you to sorrow, and regret will make you wither away in the sun. She was right. So we must let go of the regret and guilt and do what we can for this day." She touched Finn's cheek lightly. "Finn, if I know my Ariel, she's already thinking about how to get off that ship and return to me."

"And Ivy as well. She always has a plan, my clever kitchen witch. Those pirates don't know what they're up against," Rum told him.

Finn sat up and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He felt much better now, the despair within him gone. "No, they sure don't! Ivy'll make those pirates regret the day they were born if they're not careful_._ Where's my flute?"

"Here," Rumple took it out of his pocket. It was fixed and looked as new as the day it had been made.

Finn ran his fingers over the wood lovingly. "You fixed it! Thanks, Papa."

"But no playing till after you've rested," Belle cautioned.

"Aww, but . . ."

"You listen to your mother now," Rumple scolded gently. "She's the Healer, she knows what's best for you."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Parents! You all think you know what's best for us," but he set the flute upon the night table and lay back down on the pillows. He was feeling rather tired after that outburst . . . too tired to argue.

Belle smoothed the sheets out and said, "Get some sleep. Sleep is the best medicine. You call me if you need anything."

Finn yawned, then muttered, "All right . . . Mom." It felt odd, to have someone to call that after so long, but at the same time it felt so wonderfully right. Finn barely recalled his real mother, but he had missed having one. As his eyelids fluttered closed, he prayed to the gods that they keep his sisters safe.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Ivy eyed Milah, conflicting emotions rising within her. On the one hand, a part of her was almost happy that she got to meet the mother she had never known. But another part of her was furious that this woman—this pirate—had snatched her and her sisters away from their home and parents like they were stolen jewels. And she wanted answers. "Why have you kidnapped us?"

Milah eyed her up and down. Feisty, this one was. She liked girls with spirit. Unless she had to break them. "That's for me to know and you to find out," she replied. "What's your name, girl?"

"Ivy Gold," she answered, then wondered if she should have given herself a fake name. Then again, they knew her father, so they would know she was his daughter.

Milah felt a flicker of shock run through her. So this was her daughter. She had grown into a beauty since she had last seen her, as a screaming fretful baby in Rumplestiltskin's arms. Her next thought was that the gods had given her daughter into her keeping. Regina could have the other two, Ivy belonged to her. She would teach the girl all the ways of the sea and give her a pirate's freedom. Much better than any life Rumplestiltskin could offer. She smiled as warmly as she could. "So . . . my daughter comes home to me at last. I must say . . . you look a lot like him, but it's plain to see you don't have his cowardly temperament, thank the sea gods."

Ivy stiffened. "I haven't come home to you at all," she refuted. "You stole me and my sisters."

Milah's mouth tightened. The girl's defiance grated on her. "Those aren't your sisters. They're stormbirds, orphans that your father picked up out of some hovel. Gods know what he was thinking, the soft-hearted fool! How's your brother?"

"Baelfire's fine. No thanks to you. And these _are_ my sisters, Ariel and Clary. Sisters in all but blood," Ivy said staunchly. "Where are you taking us?"

"You'll know when you get there. Or rather, they will. _You'll _stay here, with me. I'll teach you how to sail and to set a course, how to fight, how to be free as bird of the air, instead of tied down to a house all day, minding squalling brats and cooking."

Ivy gasped. "You want me . . . to become a pirate?"

Milah laughed. "It's not so bad, girl. Believe me. It's far better than whatever your mouse of a father has planned for you. To marry some mooncalf shepherd? Some smelly farmer? Is that what you want?"

"No! Papa would never do that! I can choose when I'm older. You don't know anything about him!" Ivy defended.

"I know all I need to know. I married him thinking he'd grow up and become a man, but he never did. He was always a coward, always wanted to talk instead of fight. He deserted his company in the Ogre Wars . . . ran away because he said he wanted to be a father, not a soldier. Ha! What son would be proud of a coward for a father, I ask you? He had the whole village talking . . . and laughing behind my back for marrying such an idiot! A crippled fool who could jabber you into selling your shirt off your back, but didn't have the courage to stand and fight when it counted. I couldn't live like that . . . the wife of a cowardly spinner. So when I saw my chance, I took it. And I've never looked back. This is your chance, Ivy."

Ivy stepped backwards. "I'm not like you! You're wrong. Papa's no coward, and I'm proud to be his daughter! He _stayed_ when _you_ left. I was a baby, a little baby, and Bae was only three. We needed a mother then, but where were you? Off with your pirate lover, finding your _dream_!" She half-spat. "And now you think I'll go with you . . . abandon my family for the life of a buccaneer? I'd hang myself first! _You're_ the one who ran away . . . Mother! You dumped your responsibilities on Papa and you ran like a yellow-bellied cur. So who's the coward now?"

Milah felt Ivy's condemnation like a solid punch to the jaw. It nearly rocked her back on her heels. But an instant later, she regain her equilibrium. Drawing back her hand, she smacked Ivy across the face so hard the girl staggered. Then she reached out and grabbed the girl by the collar, hauling her up on her toes. "You will _never_ speak to me like that again! Or I shall tie you to the rigging and beat you with my cat-o-nine-tails until you learn respect. I am First Mate of this ship, and the wife of Captain James Hook, and I have earned my position with blood and sweat! You're nothing but a pampered schoolgirl, but I'll knock all those hoity-toity airs out of you, girl! For now, you can go down to the galley and help Fingers with breakfast . . . then you can peel some potatoes for good measure!" She half-threw Ivy to the deck, then stood over her. "Oh, and one more thing. Choose well, daughter. For the wrong choice will land you with a collar round your neck at the slave market . . . like your sisters!"

Then Milah turned and marched out, temper still smoldering in her black eyes.

"Ivy, are you all right?" Ariel asked. "Your face . . . it's all bruised." She was horrified by the violence Milah had inflicted upon her daughter. The mer were never so, and Belle had always been kind to her.

"I'm fine. It's nothing," Ivy managed to say, cradling her bruised cheek.

"She's a bad lady, Ivy! I a'scared of her," Clary said, then she crawled into her sister's lap and kissed her reddened cheek. "All better! Like Papa does."

Ivy hugged Clary, blinking back tears. "I love you, Clary-belle. Now you be good for Ariel while I go and help out in the kitchen, okay?" She gave Clary to Ariel to hold. "I'll be back as soon as I can. And we'll figure a way out of here. No way am I going to let us be sold as slaves!"

Ariel nodded. "Be careful, Ivy. You don't want to make Milah or Captain Hook mad. He's worse than she is."

Ivy rose. "I will." She touched her cheek again, which felt hot. _I can't believe I'm related to that woman! That scurvy witch! Papa would have never hit me like that, not for anything. But especially not for telling the truth._ She opened the door and went to the hatch and climbed up, trying not to let her terror show. She was on a ship of cutthroats and thieves and she felt like a lamb about to be eaten by wolves. _Oh, gods! Papa, where are you?_ she wondered frantically. Then she straightened her shoulders. The men were eying her and leering. But she would be damned if she broke down and wept like a vaporish fool. Holding her head high, she approached one and said, "Which way to the galley, mister?"

"Down the second hatch t' the right, missy! An' mind y' don't burn the porridge, aye!"

Ivy sniffed and turned about. _Burn the porridge, ha! I can do more than that to you, and I will. You don't know what you've asked, letting a kitchen witch have the run of your kitchen, you scurvy lout. I'll cook you up a feast that you'll remember to your dying day._

Clutching the ladder, she began to descend into the bowels of the ship. The one advantage she had was her magic, which she had inherited from her supposed coward father. _Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, magic to enhance, flavor, and save time,_ she recited to herself the rhyme Rumple had taught her as a small child to help her concentrate on her Gift. Her clever father! How she wished he were there. She sighed. But today she would have to be his clever daughter, and show these scum a thing or two about abducting a sorcerer's daughters. Her thoughts flashed for an instant to Milah and she shuddered. Maybe it had been lucky that her mother had abandoned her to her father's tender care all those years ago. Otherwise Ivy knew she'd have been beaten black and blue long ago and following a life of crime.

Her feet touched the deck and she walked towards the galley. _Mr. Fingers, here's your new assistant! Let's see what sort of magic she can whip up, eh?_


	14. Ivy's Witchery

**14**

**Ivy's Witchery**

When Ivy entered the galley, her first thought was that it was a hole in the wall. Her second was that she had seen holes in the wall better than this. Her third was that this sloppy disgusting set up would make it easy for her to work her magic on the crew of the _Blood Heart._ She wanted to take a mop and a broom to this place so bad it was killing her. Normally she would never have worked under such substandard conditions. But then she reminded herself that this was a pirate ship, and those on board had kidnapped her and her sisters and were trying to sell them as slaves. It was her duty to get them away from here as soon as possible. So she would put up with this filthy kitchen.

A wrinkled sun-browned older man looked up at her from the pot of oatmeal her was stirring. He wore faded ship's pants, black shoes and a white apron and shirt. The apron was stained and holey, and his sparse hair was bound back by a striped green bandanna. He reminded Ivy of the chef at The Golden Goose, just a little. He smirked, showing tar stained teeth, and said, "Ah, new recruit? Got on Milah's bad side already, did ye?"

"Does she _have_ a good side?" Ivy asked tartly, before she could stop herself.

"Only that she showes t'the cap'n. Otherwise she's like blackstrap molasses and tar paper, stiff and bitter and woe betide them that crosses 'er. Name's Bobby, but ever'body here jus' calls me Fingers." He showed her his left hand, which she saw, to her horror, had the fourth and second finger missing.

"How . . . did that happen?" she gasped.

"An accident. Slipped in the rigging, cut meself and got the putrid rot. Took two of my fingers off but I lived. Weren't good fer nothin' save cookin' after that, so that's what I do now."

Ivy drew in a breath in relief. She had feared for a moment that he had lost those fingers as some sort of punishment. But an accident . . . well, it happened, and nobody ever said a ship was safe. "First Mate sent me down to help you."

"Yup. Figgered so. And what be your name, lass?"

"Ivy," she replied.

He nodded. "Get yerself an apron over there," he indicated where another white apron was hung on a hook beside the stove. "Ye can stir the pot while I fry up some fatback."

Ivy went and got an apron and put it on, it was as stained as the one Fingers wore. Then she moved over to stir the oatmeal, which was rather thin with chunks in it. She grimaced. _I wouldn't serve this to a stray dog. Then again, these pirates don't know any better._ Still, the cook in her was urging her to fix this disgusting mess. She thought about trying to do something to the food, then realized it was too soon. She needed the crew to trust her first before she tried anything. If she moved too soon, they would suspect her immediately. So she had to bide her time.

She gave the oatmeal several stirs, muttering under her breath as she did so. The long handled wooden stirrer quivered as her magic entered it, then it whisked the oatmeal smooth with barely a touch. She tasted some. Blah! Then she turned to Fingers. "Got any cinnamon? Honey? Raisins?"

He raised an eyebrow at her as he sliced salt pork into a black skillet. "What be you needin' that fancy stuff fer?"

"To make this taste better. I always added it to my oatmeal at home."

"Really? Ye can see what we got on the shelf there," he pointed to a long low shelf on the west side of the galley, with several tin containers and wooden barrels below it.

Ivy went and peered down at the dusty shelf. She found a small jar labeled cinnamon, another with salt, and another with molasses. Then she found a tin of dried currants as well. She added pinches of herbs and the tin of currants to the pot of oatmeal. She sprinkled the top with the molasses. Then she gave the mixture another good stir.

She sniffed. _Now_ this smelled halfway fit for human consumption. She added a trickle of her power to make the flavors more enhanced, because she didn't know how old this oatmeal was and after all, she had to eat this same food and so did her sisters, and it went against all of her principles to serve slop.

She glanced back at where Fingers was frying the salt pork and wrinkled her nose. He was burning half of it. "Let me do that," she said suddenly. She hated burnt bacon. "You can rest and put the kettle on for tea."

Fingers happily relinquished the cooking to her and sniggered. "Sailors drink grog of a morning."

Ivy sniffed. "Not me . . . or my sisters."

"Yer sisters?"

"Guests of the captain," Ivy replied blithely, hoping he didn't know the truth. "We drink tea . . . or coffee."

"I'll put the coffee pot on," Fingers shrugged. "We gots sugar but no milk."

"Black's fine," Ivy said, muttering another spell to fix the burnt slices of bacon. But she worried about Clary, who normally had milk for breakfast. Oh, well. She supposed a cup of coffee wouldn't kill her. _Maybe I can tone it down a little. Otherwise she'll be like a jack-in-the-box, with too much energy._

Ivy finished frying up the salt pork, laying the strips out neatly on some sacking before transferring them to a plate.

"Not bad, missy. Ye can cook," Fingers said happily. "Take some fer you an' yer sisters now. The cook allus eats first, aye?"

Ivy smirked and took some bacon and dished up three bowls of oatmeal. It wasn't bad for such a primitive setting. At least no one would get sick. For now. She poured out some coffee for each of them, added sugar, and cupped the half-full mug in her hand for a moment, concentrating. _There! Now the coffee was not strong, so Clary wouldn't be like a maniac down in the hold. _She carefully set a tray aside, then said, "Am I to help serve too?"

"Yup. I'll do the officers table, you get the men." Fingers had already portioned out some oatmeal in a smaller pot with a lid and some bacon on a platter. He grabbed four bowls and began to tote them up the ladder.

Ivy went up on the deck and yelled, "Come and get it!"

The crew noisily stampeded across the deck, reminding her of the way the sheep trampled each other at the drinking trough. Then they lined up, each with their own bowl and horn spoon. Ivy took everyone's bowl and ladled a scoop of oatmeal in it and placed two strips of salt pork on top. She also dipped each sailor's cup into a barrel of rum and gave it to him.

The second or third pirate she served tasted the oatmeal and barked, "Yo, lass! Who cooked this 'ere?"

"I did," Ivy replied, handing another his bowl and cup.

"This . . . is actually good. Not like what we get usual-like." He ate another spoonful. "We oughta tell Cap'n Hook t' toss Fingers over the side an' keep ye down in the galley, eh mates!"

"Aye!" came a roar of voices.

In spite of herself, Ivy was pleased, as she always was when people appreciated her cooking.

Breakfast vanished down their throats and then Smee blew a whistle, and they sauntered back to work or whatever pirates did when they weren't plundering. Ivy caught a glimpse of Hook, the infamous captain, wearing a fine silken red coat with gold facings and buttons, his black hair tied back like a noble's with fine kid breeches, a pearl gray waistcoat, and lace on his sleeves. He even had good leather buckled shoes. A sword hung by his side and his face was outlined with a small goatee, such as gentlemen wore. He had slender hands and one could have thought him effeminate unless you looked into his eyes.

The eyes told the tale of a cold heart, one that beat only for profit and power, without a shred of compassion or feeling for any save himself and perhaps his wife. Ivy shivered when she met those eyes, and looked away. It was like looking into the eyes of a sea snake or a river crocodile. She wondered how Milah could stand him. Then again, maybe they were made for each other. She certainly couldn't see Milah ever being her father's wife. She was such a harpy, no wonder her father never wanted her back.

Squelching those unwelcome thoughts, Ivy grabbed the tray and headed down to the hold to feed herself and her sisters. At least her magic had kept the food warm along with the coffee. Fingers unlocked the door for her and said, "In one hour, come back an' we'll peel some taters an' veggies for stew for lunch."

She found Ariel playing a rhyming game with Clary. "Here. Here's some breakfast," Ivy announced, handing out the bowls of oatmeal and bacon along with the coffee.

She sat next to Ariel and began to eat hungrily. Ariel did also. But Clary picked at her food, in one of her moods. "Clary, eat," she urged.

The little girl shook her head. "Don't wanna. Want Papa."

Ivy sighed. Typical. Whenever she was in a strange situation, Clary turned mule stubborn and refused to eat for anyone but Rumplestiltskin. "Clary, please. Just eat four bites."

"Where's Papa, Ivy? I wanna go home."

"I know. We all do. But we have to wait."

Clary pouted. "I wanna go home _now_. Wanna see Papa."

Ivy pursed her lips. She had no patience when her sister acted like a brat, though she knew the little girl was probably scared to death. As she was, only she didn't have the option of sitting on the floor and screaming like Clary did.

Then Ariel said, "But first, we're going to play a game." She smiled brightly at Clary.

"What kind of game, Ari?"

"A game my brother Rafe taught me. It's called Pop Goes the Weasel," Ariel replied.

Ivy watched in astonishment as Ariel began to sing the old children's tune, and every time she said the word "pop" she would give Clary a spoonful of oatmeal. Her singing voice was clear and beautiful, and also infectious to listen to. She soon had Clary singing and clapping along, and eating most of her breakfast, a remarkable thing.

"My goodness! You actually got her to eat," she murmured as Ariel placed the spoon back in the almost empty bowl. "I thought Papa was the only one could trick her into doing that. Where did you learn that?"

"That's how Rafe and I got Phillip to eat when he said he hated everything," Ariel answered. "We made it into a game."

"That's so clever! I never would have thought of that," Ivy admitted. She would have gotten into a battle of wills with the stubborn toddler and ended up frustrated and angry. She blushed. Maybe she was more like Milah than she'd thought. _No, Milah would have smacked Clary silly, then told her to eat. I'm nothing like her. Nothing!_

Just then the door opened and Milah strode in, holding something that looked like a colorful ribbon in her hands. Her face was dark as a stormcloud.

Clary took one look at her and hid behind Ivy.

Ivy squared her shoulders, expecting the First Mate's wrath to fall upon her, though she had no idea why.

But Milah sneered at Ivy and then approached Ariel. "You—mermaid girl! Your singing's not tolerated aboard this ship. It'll make the men grow soft, you and your beguiling tunes. So—now you wear this," she stated, then she grabbed Ariel and yanked her head back.

"Oww! What are you doing to me?" Ariel yelped.

Milah took the ribbon and placed it about Ariel's neck, clasping it in the back. "There! Now your songs will have no more power, mer girl. Captain won't have such aboard his vessel."

Ariel clutched her throat. "I . . . my voice . . . I can't breathe!" She started coughing, like she had a bad chest ailment.

"Stop it! You're hurting her!" Ivy cried, her fists clenched. Behind her, Clary started to cry.

Milah snorted. "Spare me the dramatics. She's fine. It's just not pleasant for a sorceress to have her magic bound, is all. You're lucky Hook still keeps her on the ship and didn't keelhaul her for her freakish ways. Now shut that brat up! Or else I'll do it for you!"

Ivy glared at her. "Leave my sister alone!"

"I'll have no sniveling aboard my ship!" Milah barked.

Suddenly Clary stopped crying and peered out at Milah from around Ivy. "You're a mean _mean_ lady! An' my papa's gonna find me and beat your butt for takin' us 'way from him!"

Milah laughed at her. "Indeed? That'll be the day! Rumplestiltskin never hit so much as a fly before! He was so yellow there was a streak down his back a mile wide. Once _I_ hit _him_, the cringing dog!"

Ivy felt sick, thinking of how Bae told her about Milah and Rumple quarreling. How had he endured this awful woman?

Clary glared at Milah. "You's a bad lady! You no hit my papa!" If looks could kill, Milah would have been dead then. "You oughta be smacked and put in a corner!"

Despite herself, Ivy started laughing. So did Ariel. It was too funny, her baby sister scolding the First Mate like she was five.

"Watch it, brat!" Milah snarled. "Before I put you in the bilge with the rats and let them eat your toes. You'll be screaming for your papa all right!"

Clary clutched Ivy for dear life. "Papa will come for me!" she sniffled. "He will!"

"Keep dreaming, brat!" Milah snorted. Then she turned and stomped out.

Clary blew a raspberry at her and yelled, "Evil hag! You smell like farts!"

Ariel started laughing so hard she almost choked. "Mannan's seashell, Clary! You're a treasure! Where'd you learn that?"

"Jack said it. To an old lady that gived him the evil sigh at the market."

"You mean the evil _eye_, snippet!" Ivy giggled. "And Jack needs to watch his mouth around you." Then she looked at Ariel. "I was hoping you could help me take over the ship, Ari, but with your voice bound . . ."

"Take over the ship?"

"Yes. You see, I have a plan to get all the crew, including Milah and Hook, sicker than dogs eating off a manure pile tomorrow. Once they're all taken to their bunks, we can take over the ship. Except . . . I don't know how to sail and I was hoping you could magic some pirates to do that with your voice. Make them take us back home. But now . . . how's that going to work?"

Ariel tugged at her "collar" and sighed. "It's true that I can't help you that way, Ivy. But maybe . . . I can in another way that's just as good."

"How?"

"Well, this collar here prevents me from using my voice to enchant, but I can still speak. And call for help. If I can get up on deck, I can call a dolphin for help, get he or she to bring a message to my people. They hate pirates, and they'll come and rescue us, even though I'm an exiled daughter of Atlantis. _They_ can steer the ship back home."

"But if your magic is bound . . .?"

"I can still speak dolphin, Ivy. She didn't bind my language skills. All you have to do is get me up on deck for a few minutes."

"I can do that. But it won't be for a day or two yet. Then . . . we'll strike!"

"And show Milah and Hook that we're not helpless landlubbers and cowards!" Ariel snapped. "We're Gold daughters, with more magic and brains than they'll ever have!"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Late that same afternoon, a day after Rumplestiltskin had thrown the shell into the sea to summon the selkie, there came a sharp knock at the cottage door. Rafe went to answer it, and was startled to see what looked like a nobleman on the front porch, dressed in a blue shirt, breeches, and a long dark brown cloak with a gold pin of a seahorse upon his neck. He had long brown hair and amber eyes. A silver sword rested on one hip.

"Hello. Who are you?" asked Rafe. "Are you lost?"

"No, I don't believe so. My name is Lord Ahern of the Black Water Clan. I'm here to speak with Rumplestiltskin. Is he at home?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm Raphael Avonlea, his stepson. Come in, my lord," Rafe bowed, recalling the manners he'd learned growing up at court in Avonlea. He stepped back to allow the selkie into the cottage.

The selkie glanced around curiously. "It never ceases to amaze me how ye humans lock yerself up like clams in four walls."

"Sometimes it can get a little tight, I know. But there's safety in numbers," Rafe said. He led the selkie to the foot of the stairs then said, "Be right back, sir." He ran up the stairs, calling softly, "Rum, your important visitor is here!"

Soon Rumple descended the stairs, using his cane slightly to avoid falling. His eyes lit up when he saw the selkie there. "Lord Ahern! You've arrived!" He clasped the selkie's hand in fellowship.

"We meet again, Rumplestiltskin!" Ahern greeted. "As ye've summoned, so I've answered. What can I do for ye?"

"This way, please. Recently, my daughters and son were attacked by pirates. Captain Hook's crew of the _Blood Heart._ They kidnapped three of my daughters and hurt my son, who has the Bardic Gift. I believe they intend to sell the girls at the slave market, to Regina of the Enchanted Forest." Rumple led him off to the sitting room, which was empty.

Ahern's face twisted. "Ah, the poor lassies! Hook is not known for his mercy! _And_ they struck down a bard? Triton's trident! Among my people, they'd be put to death for harming a musician that way." To a selkie, a minstrel was more than just a player of instruments and entertainment, they were also lore keepers and wisdom seekers, and to harm one who was blessed with Power that way was a crime.

Rumple's face tightened. "Yes, well, I intend to settle the score with them, only I can't reach them. I need you to find their ship and bring the girls home safe to me. If you do this, Ahern, you'll discharge your debt to me."

"I owe ye my life, sorcerer, though ye were not wise in magic when ye saved me. Still . . . Hook and his crew are a scourge to all honest seafaring folk, especially my people. I'd help ye even without the debt, ye ken. Honor demands I protect the helpless, especially against scum like that." Ahern spat fiercely. "Glad am I to aid ye in yer hour o'need."

"Thank you, Ahern. Bring my daughters home and all debts are settled between us."

"Aye, Rumplestiltskin. I'll do that. Give me two days an' the lassies will be safe in yer arms. And if I happen to kill some scurvy dogs along the way, so be it!" The selkie lord grinned, showing his strong white teeth. "Farewell, sorcerer! I'll bring the lassies back . . . and maybe Hook's head too!"

"I'll settle with Hook, Ahern," Rumple said firmly, his eyes glinting. "Don't trouble yourself. He owes me one."

"Aye! I'll make sure he doesna slip yer net." Ahern pulled out a small dagger from his belt, made of obsidian with a mother of pearl handle. "Almost forgot. Give this to yer bard son. It's spelled to be ever sharp. It's a token of my clan's respect and tell him that when he's grown to come visit us at Black Water. Any son of yours is welcome at my court."

Rumple took the dagger. "Thank you, Ahern. Finn will appreciate this. You are most thoughtful."

"Every bard needs a good dirk, aye, to defend himself against the garbage the sea throws up. Two days, Rumplestiltskin!" Ahern waved once, then strode back out the door.

As Rumple watched, the selkie lord made his way down to the beach, tossed his cloak over his head, and became a seal, that leaped out into the breakers and swam away, his mission begun.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Ivy returned to the galley as ordered to help Fingers make lunch that afternoon. They made a simple stew, with potatoes, onions, carrots and some salt pork, spiced up by Ivy's combination of oregano, basil, pepper, salt, and parsley as well as a dash of something Fingers called chile powder, from some islands west of Neverland where they grew spicy hot peppers. The stew was accompanied by some ships biscuits, which, thanks to Ivy, were free of weevils, though a little hard.

Dinner was more stew, accompanied by cheese, bread, and some honey cake for a sweet. At the captain's table, Hook, Milah, and Smee ate pork chops, braised with onions and seasoned with marjoram and parsley, as well as roasted potatoes with garlic and honey glazed carrots.

Ivy hated making them something like that, but she knew she needed to keep up the act in order to catch them off guard. However, she did take some chops for her sisters, though she preferred the stew and bread.

They were locked in the hold at night, with only a few blankets that smelled of fish for bedding. Ivy could hear the squeaking and scratching of rats through the wall and she shivered even as she held Clary close to her. She hated rats. But none came by them, and soon it was daybreak and another day had begun.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Breakfast was nearly the same as yesterday, though Ivy used honey and butter and some dried dates along with cinnamon and nutmeg to flavor the porridge. She made sure Fingers didn't burn the bacon again and served hot coffee again to her sisters and the captain's table, though Hook had his with a splash of rum, as did Milah.

Ivy made a vegetable ragout for lunch and was torn between using her magic then or later. She finally decided it was better in the evening, since she had a fish plate planned, and such a dish could often spoil if not cooked correctly. Or if you allowed a kitchen witch with a grudge into your kitchen.

_It's almost time,_ she chanted to herself as she made the stew for lunch. She was so nervous, she almost put too much pepper into the stew. _Think it through, dearie,_ she could hear Rumple say in her head, his usual admonition when he wanted one of his children to slow down and think before they acted.

So Ivy did, waiting until the evening stars came out before returning to the galley and making a scrumptious fish stew and baked cod with lemon butter sauce and spinach, fluffy biscuits, and burnt brown sugar pudding for the captain's table.

Unknown to anyone, she slipped certain amounts of an herb into the pudding, which would be served to everyone, crew and officers. The herb would make one get horrible stomach pains, fever, chills, vomiting, and the runs for two days. Even though she hated them, she did not wish to kill everyone aboard, because she knew the price for doing so would be too high for her to pay—blood magic was always so. And Ivy was not a dark sorceress.

The only pudding she did not enhance was her sisters, though she would put a simple glamour on them should anyone check, to make it seem like they were sick too. She would not touch the pudding, though as the caster she was immune to her own poison.

As she stirred the pudding in the large bowl and put it into small bowls, she laid her hands on it and whispered, "May you rue the day you brought us here. I curse you with sickness, plague take you all!"

She felt the magic run from her like water from a sieve, felt it sink into the pudding, activating the herb she had placed in it. She swayed on her feet for a moment, having never cursed anything of this magnitude before, and she feared the price would knock her out. But after a moment she felt the dizziness recede and then she was handing out the small pudding bowls to each of the crew. Even Fingers ate one, and she almost felt bad for the old seadog. Almost, because even though he had been somewhat kind to her, he was a pirate as well.

Then she slipped off with the tray of food down to the hold.

Three hours later, the first of the crew members began to get sick. Within two hours, the entire crew, including Hook, had been stricken with "a deadly disease". Milah, green and shaking, staggered down to check on them, wondering if the "bad fish" could have been something else, but her eyes saw only Ivy's glamour spell, which made her see children as sick as she was.

"Gods-rotted fish!" she cursed, before staggering to the rail to throw up. Since all the crew was stricken, the ship came to a halt in the water, and the anchor was thrown overboard.

Inbetween puking and cursing, Hook hoped that blasted Peter Pan didn't come by and bedevil him as usual, and he sent a message to Regina explaining they would be delayed due to sickness with a pigeon. Then he lay on his bed, half curled up, moaning as if he were dying, which unfortunately he wasn't. Nor was anyone else, though they all felt like it.

Ivy waited until another hour had passed before coming up out of the hold. The ship rocked gently on the waves, but the only souls stirring on her were Ivy and her sisters. Everyone else was either in their berths or lying in the shade on deck, passed out, weakened from the sudden illness.

Ariel came to the bow and leaned over, making some odd whistles and clicks in what Ivy assumed was dolphin speech.

About five minutes later, a gray shape leaped chattering from the water and drew up beside the ship. Ariel spoke to it for a few minutes, then the dolphin arced away, disappearing beneath the waves a few seconds later.

"Well? What did it say?" Ivy asked.

"Her name was Windrider, and she said she would come with help as quick as a mako shark," Ariel said. "Ah! Fresh air! I was almost smothering in that hole!" She inhaled the salty sea air deeply, and if it weren't for the collar about her neck, she might have danced for joy. They had outwitted the pirates!

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Miles distant, Windrider met up with Lord Ahern and his group of four selkies, swimming hard through the sea. Swimming up to them, the dolphin informed them of _Blood Heart's_ whereabouts and gave him Ariel's message.

After thanking the dolphin by telling her where a school of mackerel was, Ahern and his selkie guard increased their speed through the waves, swimming faster than any normal mammal of the deep.

As the sun sank in the west, Ivy stared out across the ship's rail, trying not to breathe the fetid air of sickness that rose behind her. Suddeny, she heard something, and she whirled about, her hands coming up, a defensive spell on her lips.

A tall man in a brown sealskin cloak stepped over the rail. "Well met, lass! Are you Ariel?"

"No, I'm Ivy Gold. Ariel's my sister," Ivy answered softly. "Who are you?"

"My name is Lord Ahern of the Black Water clan. I'm a selkie lord, sent by yer father to rescue you."

As he spoke, four more sleek brown haired men wearing sealskin cloaks slipped over the rails and landed lightly on the deck, barefoot and dry as if they'd just come from sunning themselves on the beach.

**A/N: How'd you like Ivy's payback? And wasn't Clary hilarious with Milah? Next comes Rum's reckoning! You'll notice, Hook still has both his hands . . . but something will happen to one of them soon! Guess what?**


	15. Rumplestiltskin's Reckoning

**15**

**Rumplestiltskin's Reckoning**

Ariel turned when she felt the vibrations of Ahern's selkies under her feet, her red hair flying. Then her mouth split wide in a grin when she saw them. The seal folk had ever been friends of the mer. And she knew this particular lord, for he had been a guest at her former home under the sea. "Lord Ahern! May the wind be ever at your back and the sea calm beneath you," she said, using the traditional greeting among their peoples.

Ahern blinked, then he grinned also. "Why, if it isn't little Ariel, Triton's youngest daughter!" he boomed. "It's been a long time since I saw you, lass."

Ariel nodded, coming forward to give him a kiss of peace on the cheek. "Then I'd guess you haven't heard. I've been exiled."

"Exiled? Why?"

"For loving humans too much," Ariel responded.

Ahern sighed. "Ah, lass! "Tis sorry I am t'hear that. You mer are good folk, but sometimes . . . the Law must bend t'suit the needs o' the one, not the many. Or so us selkies believe. There are good as well as bad humans, aye? Though these be some of the worst," he spat and made a sign against evil as he gazed over at the sleeping pirates.

"My father and his new wife are some of the good ones," Ivy said, hugging Clary, who gazed out at this stranger in awe.

"My papa sent you?" she asked, her thumb half in her mouth.

"Aye, little one, he did that," Ahern said, and knelt to ruffle Clary's curls. "Sent me to bring ye all back safe and sound, and that's what I plan on doin'." He called out then to his men. "Liam, Sean, Micah, and Derek! Make those scum fast, tie 'em good and tight and dump 'em in their own brig! We got a ship to sail."

As his men sprang into action, tying up the pirates on the deck, there came another odd splashing sound from the water.

Ivy peered down and saw, to her shock, a man in the sea, waving up at her. No, not a _man_, but a _merman_! His big tail arced out of the water like a marlin's, all shades of blue and green, and he had yellow hair as bright as a sea tulip and bronzed skin. Behind him were three more mermen, all with varying colors of tails and hair ranging from white to dark purple.

"Ariel! Your—the mer—have come to help too!" Ivy sputtered.

"What's that ye say, lass?" asked Ahern, coming over by the rail to see. "Why, ahoy there, Percival! How did ye know we were on a mission, junior guardman?"

"A dolphin told us, my lord. You know they're the biggest gossips in the sea," said the blond merman. Then his breath caught as he saw Ariel beside the selkie and the human girl. "Hello, princess!"

Ariel felt a pang of sorrow smote her heart when she saw the mer swimming beside the ship. "Hello, Percy! But I'm not a princess. Not anymore."

"I know you're under the ban, Ari," Percy said softly. "But I swore my guardsmen's oath to you, Your Grace, and so you shall be to me, forevermore. And though Triton doesn't recognize you as family anymore because of the Laws of the Sea, he still holds a spot for you in his heart. He sends messengers out every moon, and has since your banishment, to tell him how you're faring. The dolphins and such keep him well informed."

Ariel looked dumbfounded. "My father . . . still cares what becomes of me?"

Percy nodded. "He does. It's why my patrol and I are in these waters. There was rumors of a kidnapping of a certain sorcerer's daughters, but I never imagined you were one of them, Ari."

"My mother, Belle Avonlea, married Rumplestiltskin Gold but a week past. He hasn't adopted us officially, but I am his daughter now, Percy. And these are my sisters, Ivy and Clary."

Percy gave a small bow and said, "Pleased to meet you, Mistress Gold. And you too, little sprat! Would you like me to escort you home?"

"If you aren't too busy," Ariel said.

"It'd be our pleasure," Percy said. "We'll make sure no one hinders your return." He turned to his patrol and spoke something in the liquid tongue of the mer, and they all fanned out around the ship, a watery escort holding six foot long barbed spears, which appeared in their hands by magic.

Ariel gazed at Percy wistfully a moment more before she turned to Ivy. "I never thought I'd see Percy again. He was my friend . . . and I guess he still is."

"The way he looks at you, Ari, it seems to me like he'd be more than that," Ivy giggled.

"Once, maybe. But not now. It would never work. He belongs to the sea and I'm a human. Still, I'm glad he's here to help." She smiled and thought of how miraculous it was to see the mer again, and learn that her father, whom she was sure never wanted to hear her name spoken again, still cared for her. In a roundabout way. _I love you, Daddy. But now I have a new father, and he loves me too._ She knew that was true, because Finn had told her so soon after moving into the castle. It didn't matter a smidgen that Ariel was not related to Rumple by blood, his marriage to Belle made her children his now, as much as if he was their real sire.

Ivy sighed and turned away from the handsome merman, only to find her gaze captured by the equally dark good-looking selkie lord. Though that would never work either, she thought. Selkies were willing to befriend humans, but every time marriage between the two was attempted, it ended in tragedy. Ivy knew that from reading all the histories in Rumple's library. The sea and the land could meet, but never the twain shall join in happy matrimony. And she would not be the cause of Ahern giving up his pelt to live in misery on dry land.

"You're right. Let's go home, Ari."

"So we shall, my lady," said Ahern. Then he frowned, noticing the collar about Ariel's neck. "By the Sea's Grace! They dared to bind a daughter of the sea?"

"Can you . . . remove it?" asked Ariel. "I can't bear to touch it."

"Hold still, lass," Ahern said, then he pulled a slender dagger from his belt, almost the twin of the one he'd given to Finn. He gently bent Ariel's head down, swept her shining hair out of the way, and slit the knot binding the ribbon around her neck. It fell to the deck and he kicked it over the side. "Filthy thing!"

Ariel exhaled sharply. "Oh! I can breathe again." She rubbed her throat, there was a faint red mark where the collar had been. "And sing! I'll whistle up a wind, Ahern, to speed us home."

"You can work weather?" Ivy asked, impressed.

"Only on the water. And only for a short period of time," Ariel answered. Then she began to sing, one long sustained note, and the wind filled the sails. One of the mer tossed up the anchor and the _Blood Heart_ set sail again, this time in the opposite direction.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Late in the afternoon on the second day of being rescued, the _Blood Heart_ hove into sight of the beach where the cottage overlooked the sea. A seabird squawked at the sight and then flew right towards the cottage. It landed on the ground near the porch and screamed loudly, bringing Jasmine, who spoke Gull, outside. She listened intently to the gull's screeching, then she ran inside, yelling, "Papa! Papa! They're home!"

Rumplestiltskin grabbed two things from his bedroom before coming downstairs like a bat out of hell. One was his cane, the other was a sheathed silver sword with ornate scrollwork on the blade. He'd had little cause to use the enchanted blade, but today he would do so. He quickly belted it around his waist and hurried down the stairs.

Belle came flying out of the kitchen, along with Rennie, who held a crook in her hands, and Rafe, who had his bow and arrows. "Rum! Jasmine said—"

"I know. Let's go meet them, Belle. Bae, stay here and watch the rest of the children."

Finn was sitting on the back porch when he heard the seagull cry and then Jasmine calling his father. He rose, a little unsteadily, but then he gained his equilibrium and walked quietly and purposefully across the dunes. As a result, he reached the beach before either of his parents, or his siblings.

The sight of the pirate ship struck cold fear in his heart, but he forced himself to stay where he was. A small dinghy was lowered and he saw several brown shapes in the water, pulling it by a rope. Inside were his sisters.

As the dinghy beached, Ivy sprang out with Clary in her arms, followed by Ariel. They raced up the beach towards him.

"Finn! Finn, you're all right!" Ariel shouted. "I thought they hurt you!" She ran up to him and hugged him hard.

Finn hugged her back. "Aww, Ari, my head's too hard for them to smash in, don't you know?" He spun her around, then released her to hug Ivy and Clary. "Looks like you two had some adventure. You'll have to tell me all about it so I can make a ballad."

"You've got a deal, Finn!" Ivy laughed, she was so glad to be back on dry land again. She set Clary down.

Clary went racing across the sand towards a familiar figure. "Papa! Papa, I'm back!"

Rumplestiltskin picked up his baby girl in his arms and held her tight. "Thank the gods you're safe, Clary-belle! I missed you so much."

"To the moon an' back?" the little girl asked, gripping him so tightly he almost choked.

"To infinity and beyond, dearie," he whispered. He held her for a moment more then handed her to Belle to hold while he hugged Ariel and Ivy as well. "My clever girl and my little mermaid. You're home at last, where you belong!" Over the girls' heads, he saw Ahern and his selkies shift into human shape. He released the girls, who were immediately set upon by Belle, Rennie, and Rafe and engulfed in hugs to wave to the selkie lord. "Your debt is paid in full, Ahern. You have my thanks!"

"You are welcome, Rumplestiltskin, my friend! May the blessings of the sea be upon you and yer kin! If ever ye need me, just put yer hand in the sea and call my name. Now, lads, let's away, for the sea is calling!" Ahern cried, then he transformed back into a seal and swam away along with his guardsmen.

Just then there came the sound of jeering and swearing from the _Blood Heart_ as the pirates awakened from their stupor and cut each other free. They swarmed into the rigging, shaking their fists at the beach and those gathered upon it.

There came the splash of a second dinghy and the sound of oars striking the water as Hook and Milah began to make their way to shore, rowed by Smee and another crew member.

Finn's eyes narrowed as he saw who was in this boat, and a hard light entered his eyes. He tugged his flute from his belt and snarled, "I'll teach you to kidnap my sisters, you chicken-hearted devils!" Then he set the flute to his lips, prepared to curse them into oblivion.

Rumplestiltskin turned . . . and saw what Finn was about to do, the light of vengeance gleaming in his green eyes. He took two steps forward and called, "Finn, stop! Vengeance is not the way."

Finn paused, his fingers poised to strike the first note. "I could blow them away, Papa! You know I could. And I ought to, for what they've done."

"Yes, you could do that, lad." Rumplestiltskin acknowledged. Finn had always been the strongest of his magical children. The strongest and also the most even-tempered. Until today. "But once you start down the path of vengeance, you'll put your soul in jeopardy, son. Trust me. I know. I walked that path for years and I know the darkness that waits to consume you. Curse them for vengeance's sake, Finn, and you'll become like those you hate. Don't make the mistake I did. Don't give in to hate, it leads only to destruction."

He prayed his words could get through to the boy. He knew all too well where the path of vengeance led. He had become the Dark One because of it. He could not bear it if his son took that road now. "Finn . . . _think_, dearie! I know you're angry, but let me handle this. It's mine to do, not yours." _Please, let him listen to me._

Finn slowly turned. Their eyes met across the stretch of sand.

Angry green eyes locked with firm brown ones.

Finn heard his father's voice from far away, through the pounding surf and the rage that beat within him. He stood on the cusp of a precipice and all it would take for him to jump was a single decision. He recalled waking up with a horrible headache and his fear that his sisters would be lost forever. Now he had those who had stolen them in his sights. All he would need to do was play a certain set of notes just so . . . and they would be frozen like icicles. Icicles he could shatter with one sharp arpeggio into dust. No more worries. No more children would be captured and sold into slavery, far from home.

_But is it worth the price?_ A voice hissed. _All magic comes with a price, Finn Gold. And what if the price is your soul?_

He drew in a breath. A part of him wanted to go ahead and play that deadly song, pay Hook and Milah back for harming his family and himself. But the other part, the sensible obedient part, whispered for him to wait and let his father, who knew more than he did, handle it.

"Finn, don't! They're not worth it," Ariel called.

Finn lowered his flute and stepped back. "Give it to them, Papa," he said, and the precipice receded in his mind until he stood once again on firm ground.

Rumplestiltskin breathed a soft sigh of relief. It was always those with the greatest power that temptation pricked the hardest. Thank goodness Finn had more sense than he had when he came into his power. His son, at least, would not learn vengeance's price the hard way.

The sorcerer waited upon the beach as the three pirates drew closer, his hand upon the hilt of his sword. There would be a reckoning today, he vowed, a reckoning in blood equal to what Hook had done to his family. But the punishment would fit the crime.

The dinghy scraped the sand and Milah sprang out, her eyes flashing. "Rumplestiltskin! Give me back my daughter, you craven conjurer!"

"_Your_ daughter, Milah?" Rumple snorted. "If you loved her so much, why did you leave?"

"You know why, you bootlicking piece of dirt! Now give her back before you ruin her!" Milah growled, her hand on her cutlass.

"You're not a fit mother to lamprey eel, Milah, much less a girl like Ivy. She has magic, like the man you say is a coward!" Belle spoke up, glaring at Milah.

Milah looked as if she had been knocked to the ground and stamped on. "Magic? _My_ child has magic?"

"She's mine too, dearie!" said Rumple sharply. "It works both ways, you know. She's an enchantress, Milah, and I'd say she made her choice when she came home to me. You lost her long ago . . . when you left me standing there on the docks with a baby in my arms. Now reap what you have sown, woman!"

His words were like poisoned arrows, hitting her right in the heart . . . or where her heart had been. "You bloody coward! I should have cut out your heart all those years ago."

"Regrets pay no debts, dearie," Rumplestiltskin snarled. "I let you go, Milah. You can't hold what you don't love . . . and you loved yourself and your wicked buccaneer more than you ever did your family. So don't whine to me now that the price was too high."

Milah spat at him. "I left you to find a real man . . . one that had my back . . . unlike you, you cur!"

"And what a man you found, eh? A man who butchers babies and kills old ladies in their beds. Who burns, pillages, and loots his way across the kingdoms. What a fine man you chose, Milah!"

"At least James isn't a coward like you!"

Rumplestiltskin clenched his jaw. Then he turned to Hook, who was watching their exchange with a smirk on his face. "Long ago, you offered to fight me for her. Do you remember that, Hook?"

"I do, old boy. And you refused to take me up on it, cowardly cripple that you are. Have you changed then?" Hook sneered, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You'd be surprised, dearie, at how much," said the sorcerer. "I didn't fight you that day because it wasn't worth my time and I had two children to look after. But now you've done something unforgivable, Captain James Hook. You dared to harm my children. To try and sell them into slavery as if they were cattle."

"Regina paid me well."

"Indeed. But now you owe me. And I always collect, dearie," the sorcerer hissed, his eyes gone flat and hard, like chips of obsidian ice.

"You wish to fight me?" Hook sniggered. "Has the coward grown a spine at last?"

"I was never a coward, Hook. Draw your sword, pirate," Rumplestiltskin ordered, and in one swift movement he dropped his cane to the sand and drew the sword at his side.

It was called the Whisperer, and had once belonged to a warrior king who had slain giants, trolls, dragons, and evil warlords with it. It was said that the king had once been a shepherd and this sword, forged by the elves of Mithras, would make one equal to a swordsman for an hourglass length of time. It was said it whispered advice in its bearer's ears, hence its name. Rumple had gotten it in a deal with the king's heirs, who were broke and needed gold to run their kingdom. Rumple traded chests full of gold for Whisperer, but he had never used the sword, preferring his magic.

But now he would. For he wanted Milah and Hook to learn that there was more than one way to skin a cat, and beating Hook with his own weapon would drive home his point better than cursing him ever would. Hook considered himself a great swordsman. He thought Rumple was an easy mark, with his crippled leg and no formal dueling experience.

But Rumplestiltskin would prove him wrong. The sword would enable him to fight like a warrior, putting him on equal footing with devilish Hook. He knew he would pay for it later, but this price was one worth paying.

Now he held the sword easily in his right hand, and he felt the magic in the blade come alive. The sword glistened and the magic within whispered through his mind and his body, freeing him from his lame leg for a time. The magic coursed through him and he stood taller and more confidently.

"Have at you, dog!" Hook cried, and lunged, his sword whistling through the air.

But Rumplestiltskin was no longer there. An instant before Hook's blow landed, he had moved, quicker than he ever had before, even when he was young and no lame leg marred him. He had stepped aside, moving like a leaf on the breeze, and Hook's sword missed.

The captain looked startled, but his astonishment lasted only a moment, for Whisperer was using Rumple to lunge at the pirate, making Hook dance backwards to avoid the blade's lethal cut across his abdomen. "Humph! Looks like someone taught you a few moves since the last time, spinner. But not enough to prevent me from squashing you like a bug!"

Hook came at him, working his blade fast and furiously, trying to find an opening that would end the duel quickly and leave Rumplestiltskin bleeding his life away on the sand.

Rumple parried, his sword meeting the other's cutlass with a sharp ring of steel on steel. Back, down, forward. He met all Hooks thrusts and countered them easily. "I'm not that easy to squash, Jimmy boy," he taunted. "Still think you're going to win?"

Hook went low, trying to hamstring Rumple's bad leg.

Again, Rumple glided away like a cat, avoiding the slash as if he walked upon the wind. The Whisperer's magic coursed through him, giving him the ability to not only move like a trained warrior, but to see patterns in his opponent's attack routine.

Overextended, Hook scrambled to regain his balance.

Rumple slammed him in the knees with the flat of his blade, causing the pirate to measure his length in the sand. He lunged, trying to pin the slippery Hook down, but Hook rolled, escaping by the slimmest of margins.

Then the pirate regained his feet.

"Go, Papa! Teach him a good lesson!" Finn yelled.

"Yeah! Teach the scurvy dog how to beg!" Rafe hooted.

"Arf! Arf!" Clary barked insultingly, making the watching children laugh hysterically.

Hook went a shade of scarlet that was usually only seen in sunsets and Milah's lingerie. He was through being humiliated. Now he would go for the kill, and show those sorcerer's brats what their father looked like with his guts spilled all over.

He came at Rumple with his sword high, then feinted low and thrust hard at the sorcerer's midsection.

It was a move that usually never failed him. He'd killed countless men and boys that way.

Yet somehow the devil-spawned magic maker countered it.

Their swords locked and Hook strained to shove the cowardly spinner onto the ground.

But Rumple planted his injured leg into the sand like a pillar and then kicked Hook's ankle with his other foot.

Unprepared for the attack, the pirate's leg crumpled and he went down hard.

Hook reached out a hand to push himself up and avoid a thrust to the heart.

Only Rumplestiltskin wasn't aiming there. "Tick tock, dearie! Your time's up," he sneered, and brought his sword around in a lightning quick cut.

And cut off Hook's left hand.

"_That's_ for all the pain and suffering you caused my children, Hook!" the sorcerer growled. "What's it feel like to be lame, cripple? Not so funny now, is it?"

Hook writhed on the sand. "Cursed sorcerer! I'm . . . done for!"

"Oh, not yet, maggot. I want you to live a long life with your shame," Rumple sneered. "You one-handed bilge rat." He pointed a finger and blue fire shot out, cauterizing the bleeding stump.

Hook screamed. Finally he understood why Rumplestiltskin was called the Dark One, and he was terrified.

"Die, you pathetic excuse for a man!" Milah howled, rushing at Rumple from behind with her cutlass drawn.

"Rum! Behind you!" Belle shouted.

Rumple whirled, the Whisperer coming around in a block.

He knocked the cutlass right out of Milah's hand.

Milah froze, a dumbfounded expression on her face.

That was when Belle slammed her in the jaw with a right hook.

"_That's_ for hurting children, you pathetic excuse for a mother. Sell _my_ kids into slavery, will you?" She hit Milah again with her opposite hand, and the First Mate found herself sitting in the sand, seeing stars and one furious Healer. "And _that's_ for trying to stab my husband in the back, you cowardly cheat!"

"Kick her ass, Mom!" Rafe cheered.

Milah spat out a tooth. "You . . . you broke my tooth!" she sputtered, her jaw throbbing.

Belle gave her a cold glance, like one she imagined a viper would give. "Oh, I've done worse than that, you miserable harpy! Did you ever hear of the Creeping Death?"

"C-Creeping Death?"

"Yes, you cowardly little pig! The Creeping Death is like a leprosy . . . a disease that spreads by touch . . . and rots you from the inside out. And I've just infected you, Milah. You see, I'm a carrier, and since I cut your lip open, I've exposed you to the disease."

"N-No!" Milah whimpered, trying to back up.

"Oh, yes. And you know the best thing, sugarplum? You take years to die. First your hair will fall out, then your skin flake off, you'll become weak and sick with ague, and people will point at you in the street and run from you ringing clappers like they do for the plague. Why I'll wager even your husband will abandon you eventually . . ."

Milah was whimpering in horror, for one of a pirate's greatest fears was dying of disease, slowly and inescapably. "Please, no . . . please . . .!"

"Too late. That's what you get when you steal away little children," Belle said coldly.

Milah turned pale as old cheese. She scrambled to her feet, dragging her husband after her to the dinghy, where Smee sat in stunned silence. "Cast off, you idiot! I've been cursed, we need Regina to remove it!"

Smee was in such a hurry to get away that his oars churned up sand for a good three minutes before he hit the water, rowing for all he was worth.

The children cheered. "Goodbye, wretches!" Finn called. "Tell Regina the Golds send their regards!"

It was the last time anyone saw the _Blood Heart_ in these waters again.

"Mom, what's the Creeping Death?" asked Rennie, puzzled. "I've never heard of that disease before."

"That's because it exists only in Milah's mind, darling. I made it up," Belle said, winking at her.

"You mean . . . she thinks she's dying of a disease that's only in her mind?" Ivy asked.

"That about sums it up, dearie," said Rumple, sheathing his sword.

"That's so . . . fiendishly clever!" Ivy crowed. "You must be the smartest woman ever."

"Smarter than that stupid bottom feeder anyway," Ariel snickered. "She bought that hook, line, and sinker."

"Well, dearie, no one ever said Milah had brains," Rumple remarked. He reached for his cane . . . only to have his leg crumple beneath him as the Whisperer's magic faded, leaving him utterly exhausted and his lame leg throbbing like seven hells.

Rafe grabbed him before he fell, putting his arm about him. "Hey, what happened? Did Hook nail you when I wasn't looking?"

"No. All magic comes with a price, Rafe. That's what I'm paying now," Rumple said through gritted teeth. "Help me into the house, if you wouldn't mind."

Finn came up and gave him his shoulder to lean on as well.

Limping slowly, his leg in agony, Rumplestiltskin went back towards the cottage. The Whisperer had made him a warrior for a limited time, but now it was done, and the payment for such a thing was making itself felt now. But it had been worth it, the look on Milah's face had been priceless as she finally realized her former husband was a braver man than her new one, even on his worst day. And his children were safe at last.


	16. Little Moments

**16**

**Little Moments**

By the time Rumplestiltskin got back to the cottage, he was feeling as exhausted as if he'd run five miles down the beach and back. His lame leg felt like a limp sausage and it sent fiery tendrils up and down its length every time he put the slightest weight on it. He bit the inside of his lip to keep from swearing aloud as Rafe and Finn helped him inside. But when they reached the stairs, he turned to Finn, who was panting, as his slight build wasn't meant for hauling about injured sorcerers, and said, "Call Bae, Finn. He can help me upstairs along with Rafe. You'll pull something if you try it."

Finn, who knew his own limitations, yelled, "Bae! Come and help Papa!"

Bae appeared in the doorway of the sitting room, where he'd been entertaining the remaining children by playing board games. He saw immediately how he was needed and gently shoved Finn aside. "Move over, maestro. This needs more muscle than brains. Here, Papa. Hold on to me."

Bae took most of Rumple's weight on himself and then began to go upstairs, with Rafe on the other side.

As they made their way carefully upstairs, Rafe began telling Bae what had happened on the beach.

"You cut off Hook's _hand_, Papa?" whistled Bae appreciatively.

"It was either that or his head, and the hand was quicker," Rumple grunted. "Plus, I grew tired of him sneering at me and calling me a crippled coward."

"You sure showed him," Bae said proudly. "But how did you . . . er . . . beat him with your leg and all?" As a swordsman himself, Baelfire knew just how hard it was to fight with any kind of handicap.

"With the Whisperer, dearie," his father answered. "But there's a price for all magic." He gasped sharply as they neared the top.

"We're almost there, Papa," Bae encouraged. Then he said, "I can't believe that Belle punched out Milah that way. And made her think she was stricken with a disease. Gods, that's too funny!"

Rafe peered at his elder sibling. "You don't mind then? That Mom just beat the spit out of your mother?"

Bae shrugged. "Hells, Rafe, she left us when I was three. About all I recall of her was her screeching at Papa. She might have bore me, but she sure as hell wasn't any kind of mother to me or Ivy."

"Ivy says she tried to make her join her as a pirate. And when she told her no, she smacked Ivy across the face," Rafe related.

Bae's face darkened. "Bloody harpy! That's like asking a fish to fly. Is she all right?"

"She seemed so," Rafe said. "She got back at those filthy pirates good though. Poisoned their supper and made them sicker than dogs. That's how they gained control of the ship, even before the selkie came and helped out."

Bae chuckled. "That's my sister. Don't ever get her mad, Rafe, or she'll make you regret it."

"Believe me, I won't!" said Rafe.

The two boys managed to get Rumple into bed without too much fuss, and Bae tugged off his boots and put Whisperer in the corner.

"Do you need anything else, Rum?" asked Rafe solicitiously.

"I'll take over from here, boys," Belle said softly. "Go back downstairs and listen to Ivy and Ariel tell their tale." As the boys left, Belle looked at her husband. "You look like you're in agony, Rum."

He exhaled sharply. "Pretty much, dearie."

"May I?" she asked, rolling up his pant leg and examining the leg.

He hissed as she touched it.

"Sorry. I don't mean to hurt you," she apologized.

"It's all right. Nothing you do can make it feel any worse," he answered.

She gently felt along it, then said, "All your muscles, here and here, are so tight and inflamed, no wonder it hurts."

"With what I did today, it's a miracle I could still walk afterwards. But I would do it again."

Belle placed her hands on the lame leg and used her Gift to ease the pain and swelling somewhat. She wished she could do more, but she was not one of the great Healers, who could heal with a touch. "I'm going down to make some willowbark tea for you, love. And heat up some cloths. I think some warm compresses soaked in lavender water will help. In the meantime, let's prop up your leg on these." She dragged the pillows over from her side of the bed and placed them beneath Rum's leg. "Is that better?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Much, thanks." He was surprised that he didn't mind her fussing over him.

"I'll be back, hero," she said, kissing him.

He grinned. "Hardly. Just a sorcerer with a magic sword, dearie." Then he lay back on the pillows and began to try some meditative breathing to manage the pain. He couldn't ever remember his leg hurting this bad, except perhaps when he'd first hurt it.

He dozed slightly, then woke when he heard Clary say, "Papa, you asleep?"

He opened one eye to see his youngest kneeling on the bed beside him. "No, dearie."

"Bae says you hurt your leg. You want me to kiss it better?"

"That would be lovely," he said, smiling despite the throbbing.

She gently kissed his cheek. "All better now?"

"I feel ten times better, Clary," he said, and he was not lying. Having his baby girl home again, safe and sound, made any pain he was experiencing inconsequential.

She snuggled beside him then said, "Lemme tell you what happened when we were on that smelly old boat. With the mean nasty lady and the ugly man."

Rumple snickered at her candid descriptions of Milah and Hook. "Go ahead, dearie. I'm all ears."

As Clary told her story, Rumple used the distraction to hitch himself a bit higher on the pillows. He found his little girl's rendition to be simple and yet hilariously funny. It certainly took his mind off the red hot cramps in his leg.

Just as Clary was finishing up, Belle returned with a mug of willowbark tea and some warmed wet cloths in a bowl. She smiled when she saw Clary. "Sometimes children are better medicine than anything I can prescribe."

"Yes. But I think a certain little girl needs a bath," Rumple said.

"Elaina can give her one," Belle said. She handed Rumple the mug of tea.

He sipped it and grimaced.

"Does it taste nasty, Papa?" asked Clary curiously.

"Like sucking lemons."

"Yuck!" Clary grimaced.

"Oh, I forgot to add some honey. I'm sorry, Rum," Belle apologized.

But when she went to take it back, he shook his head. "No need. Let me just get it down." He managed to drink the tea in a few more swallows. Then Belle handed him a cup of cool water.

As he drank that, Belle called Elaina, who arrived in a few moments. "Clary, let's take a bath. You smell like fish, little sister." She held her nose to illustrate her point.

"Not my fault. The boat was smelly," Clary told her.

"You can tell me all about it while I wash your hair," Elaina said. "Come on. Papa and Mom need some privacy."

Clary hopped off the bed and took Elaina's hand. "What's that mean, Elaina?"

"It means that they need some time alone, without nosy girls asking questions," Elaina answered, leading her sister from the room.

Once the girls had left, Belle shut the door and said, "It might be easier if you took your pants off, then I can wrap your leg, Rum."

"Mmm . . ." he sighed, then put a hand on his breeches and they vanished, to reappear on the floor. He then pulled off his shirt and Belle helped him put on a more comfortable nightshirt. "All right, dearie, you can work your magic."

Belle gently placed a dry towel beneath his leg, then began slowly wrapping it with the warmed cloths soaked in a solution of lavender water. The heat would draw a lot of the swelling and relax the muscles. "How's that feel? A little better?"

"Yes." He yawned. "Sorry . . . I just need to rest . . ." he murmured, and then his eyes shut and he slept.

She stroked his cheek as he slept. "My brave husband," she whispered, thinking angrily what a fool Milah had been, to call him a coward. There wasn't a fearful bone in his body. She lay down on the bed next to him. The cloths would require changing in twenty minutes. Until then she'd take a little nap too.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

They all slept late the following morning. Rumple woke up feeling slightly better, his leg was less swollen and he managed to limp along with his cane to the bathroom, but he knew his leg wouldn't permit him much more than that. It appeared he was stuck in bed for the time being. He propped it up on the pillows again and gently tickled Belle's nose. "Rise and shine, my lovely beauty."

She opened her beautiful blue eyes and gave him a dazzling smile. "Morning, Rum. How's the leg?"

"A bit better."

"Let me see it," she stretched, then gently examined it. "The swelling's come down some, but you'll need to rest for today. Maybe even tomorrow. I can massage it if you want. That should help. I'm sorry you have to suffer like this."

"Belle, I suffered far worse than this worrying over our daughters. I'd gladly pay this price ten times over to have them back home where they belong," Rumple aid firmly.

She clasped his hand. "I know, but . . . I hate to see you in pain." She placed a hand on his leg and willed some of her power into it, soothing the strained muscles. "I'll go down and make some breakfast and after I'll massage the leg, okay?"

Rumple nodded, then reached for a book he'd been reading on his night stand and opened it. "I'll be fine, dearie. Go eat."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

After a breakfast of toast, coconut butter, fresh fruit, and sausage, plus some more of Belle's tea, the Healer massaged her husband's leg. She worked on the sore muscles for fifteen minutes before wrapping it up again in the heated cloths and going downstairs to help Ivy and June make bread.

Rumple relaxed in bed, his leg was still sore, but not the agony it had been the day before. Belle's hands were like magic, he thought as he read another chapter of his book. He had just dozed off again when he heard the sound of feet stomping upstairs and a muttered, "It's not fair!"

"Hush! You'll wake Papa!" Elaina scolded Phillip. "Be quiet, he needs his rest."

She continued on downstairs, and Rumple heard Phillip sigh heavily. "It's still not fair!"

The sorcerer turned his head slightly and called, "What's not fair, Phillip?"

A second later, the boy entered the bedroom, a scowl on his face. "It's not fair that Rafe, Bae, and Pete get to go fishing and not me!"

"And why aren't you going?"

"'Cause Mom says I'm too little! That I could fall out of the boat and drown 'cause I can't swim yet," Phillip said sulkily.

Rumple patted the bed next to him. "Come up here, Phillip."

Phillip came and crawled up on the bed next to the sorcerer. "I'm always too little to do anything! Mom thinks I'm four, like Clary."

"Oh, I doubt that. I know it seems like forever to grow up when you're the youngest son," Rumple said sympathetically.

"Being little sucks, Papa!" Phillip burst out. "Everyone always tells you what to do and never listens to you. Today at breakfast, everybody ate all the toast and sausage before I could have a piece, so all I got was a rotten apple. Well, it wasn't _all_ rotten, but still!"

"Does your mother know you're starving?"

"No, 'cause after that I was gonna go fishing but she said I couldn't, so I came up here."

"I see." Rumple reached over and opened his night table drawer. "Maybe this will help you keep from wasting away." He handed Phillip a large bar of chocolate with raisins and almonds.

"Wow! Is it all mine?"

"Yes. I don't want you wasting away to a shadow," the sorcerer laughed.

Phillip tore open the paper and took a huge bite out of it. He rarely got sweets all to himself, especially if his brothers were around. "Mmm! It's so good."

"Chew and swallow, lad. Else you'll choke," Rumple reminded him.

Phillip did so, then said, "I guess maybe it's not so bad being here if I get candy."

"See, there's always a silver lining somewhere," Rumple said. "And you can ask Jack to teach you how to swim and ride when we get back to the castle. He likes being outside, so he won't mind."

"Do you have a pony I could ride?"

"No, but Rogue is gentle enough for you. Just don't try and ride Flicker, he tends to buck."

"Okay," mumbled Phillip, still munching on the chocolate. "Don'tcha get bored lying in bed all day?"

Rumple smirked, for he knew being stuck in bed was like torture to a boy Phillip's age. "When you get to be my age, boy, you'll find it's nice to relax every once in awhile. Now I have time to read."

"I'd go crazy," Phillip declared, biting off another piece of chocolate. He knew he should eat smaller bites, but it was so good he couldn't resist eating it all at once. Suddenly he began to cough violently.

Rumple turned and saw the little boy was choking. "Ah, dammit!" he swore, then he pulled Phillip around and grabbed him in one arm while he brought the heel of his hand up firmly beneath the boy's sternum.

A piece of chocolate popped out of Phillip's mouth and landed on the sheets.

Phillip gasped, then coughed a little more.

"All right, son?"

"Yeah. It just . . . got stuck."

"That's why I told you not to talk with your mouth full," Rumple scolded gently. He handed the chastened youngster a cup of water.

"Sorry," Phillip murmured. "But I couldn't help it." He drank some water, then he went to pick up the piece of chocolate on the sheet. But it had melted all over by then. "Aww, chickenfluff! Mom's gonna have a fit."

"Not if she doesn't know about it," Rumple said slyly, then he laid a hand over the melted chocolate stain and whispered something. When he lifted his hand, the stain was gone.

Phillip grinned naughtily. "I wish I had magic like you."

"I think you do just fine without it, lad."

"But you can do so many things with it."

"True, but all magic comes with a price. Look at me. I'm lying here right now because I used magic to duel Captain Hook. Magic's not a cure all, Phillip. There's always a price to be paid, some big, some small."

"Even for taking off a stain?"

"Yes. Doing that makes me feel a little tired. Just the same as if I'd scrubbed it off."

"Oh. I never knew that."

"Magic only _looks_ easy, Phillip. But looks can be deceiving."

He began to eat his chocolate bar again, only this time he was careful to chew and swallow. He had just finished the last of it when Clary came into the room, dragging Mopsy, her stuffed cat, behind her.

"Papa, June n'I are gonna have a tea party!" She looked at Phillip. "You wanna come, Phil?"

Phillip gaped at her. "Me? Come to a tea party? That's sissy stuff!"

"Is not! Papa's been to my tea party."

"You . . . _have?"_ Phillip gulped. After what he had done to Hook, Rumplestiltskin was certainly _not_ a sissy.

"On occasion," Rumple allowed, hiding a grin. "Even Jack's been persuaded to play with Clary a time or two."

"Jack?" That seemed impossible. Jack was always outside, climbing trees, riding, practicing with his knives.

"Uh huh. I made a deal with him," Clary put in.

"What kind of deal?"

"I tol' him he could eat all the cakes he wants."

Phillip thought about it. Suddenly this tea party sounded better all the time. "Will you make the same deal with me?"

"Uh huh. Only you gotta promise not to make fun of my dolls."

"I won't. When is this tea party?"

"Soon as Mom makes us the tea and cakes," Clary answered simply. Then she climbed up and sat curled on Rum's other side. "Papa, let's play the alphabet game."

"What's that?" asked Phillip.

"Have you learned your alphabet, Phillip?" Rumple inquired.

"Yeah, I know it. Only I can't read yet. Mom says I'll learn when I go to school in the fall."

"I can teach you a bit now, with the alphabet game. You start with the letter A, and name something starting with that letter that you see nearby. Then the next person takes a turn, until you can't name something any more. Shall we play?"

"Okay."

"I'll start," Rumple said. "A—argyle sock. Which is what I'm wearing on my feet. Your turn, Clary."

"Umm . . . B. Book," she said, pointing to his book lying there.

"Good! Now you, Phillip."

Phillip looked around. "C . . . uh . . ." he could have said "chocolate" but he'd eaten it all. Then he saw something else. "Cane!"

"Excellent. D . . . drawer."

"E . . . umm . . . ear!" Clary said, patting her father's.

"F . . . fly!" Phillip cried, spotting one buzzing by the window.

"G . . . green. Your shirt is green, Phillip," Rumple said.

Clary had H. "Hole!" she cried after a few moments.

"Hole? Where?" Phillip asked.

"In Papa's sock," she giggled. "See?"

"I'll have to get Ivy to mend that," her father said. "What's next, Phillip?"

"I." Phillip answered. That was a tough one. Then he remembered hearing Aurora talk about colors in her dress patterns. "Indigo! That means blue. The blanket is indigo."

"Very good! You two are almost too smart for me. J . . . jolly. Mopsy has a jolly expression on her face . . ."

"K . . . for kitty!" Clary sang. "Mopsy's a kitty. But I like Puss better."

"Me too. I hope she ain't lonely all by herself in the castle," Phillip said.

"Isn't," Rumple corrected. "And I'm sure she's fine. We're going back home tomorrow."

"Yay!" Clary cheered. "Then I can climb up the apple tree!"

"Oh, no you don't, young miss!" her father said quickly. "You'll fall and break your neck."

"Jack does," Clary objected.

"Is your name Jack?"

"No . . . but . . ."

"Never mind then. I catch you climbing up that tree, Clarissa, and you'll be sitting with your nose in a corner all afternoon while June and Jasmine play tea party without you. Is that what you want?"

"No, Papa," the little girl said. "It's no fair!"

Suddenly, Phillip started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Clary demanded.

"You are. You sound like I did a few minutes ago. Life's never fair when you're little."

"I _know_," Clary said, half-crossly.

"But at least you get chocolate," Phillip said.

"An' tea parties."

"What's going on in here?" asked Belle. "Phillip, Clary, are you bothering your father? He's supposed to be resting."

"I _am_ resting, dearie. And having a very interesting discussion about life at the same time," Rumplestiltskin chuckled.

"Oh? And what have you discovered?"

"That life isn't fair but at least you get chocolate and tea parties out of it, according to Clary and Phillip," her husband replied.

Belle started to chuckle. "Out of the mouths of babes."

**A/N: Okay, so after that big fight scene, I needed a chapter that made me laugh. Who liked Clary and Phillip interacting with Rum?**


	17. Blooming and Growing

**17**

**Blooming and Growing**

The next day, the Golds all headed back to the castle. Though the coachman that Belle and Rumple hired was first rate, and Belle had pillows for Rumple to rest his injured leg on, the journey played merry hell with his leg as the coach bumped over the ruts in the road. Had he been able to use his magic, Rumple would have used it to transport him to the Dark Castle. But he'd exhausted himself in that area, since the Whisperer needed a magical source to draw on in order to function properly, and it had drawn too heavily upon his reserves for him to use it to travel instantaneously in the days following the duel.

"Even the best sorcerer has limits," he told his children when Nick asked why he couldn't magic them home.

"Besides, you want Papa to kill himself?" asked Jasmine tartly. "Doing a spell when he's still recovering would knock him out for a week."

"Yeah, all magic comes with a price," Finn reminded his younger brother. "Nothing's ever free."

"Except a parent's love," Belle put in.

"Or a friend's. And that's the only things," Bae agreed. "Everything else you pay for."

"Just get in the coach, little brother," Rafe ordered. "If you keep complaining, I'll make you walk home."

"I'm telling! Mom, Rafe said—"

"Nick, don't be a tattletale," Belle sighed. "Now hurry up and get inside, we don't have time to waste."

So they all piled into the three different coaches and made their way back to the castle.

Bae and Rafe helped Rumple go upstairs to his room once they arrived, and Belle applied more warm compresses and her Healing touch to his leg and dosed him with more willowbark tea.

The younger set, consisting of Phillip, Clary, June, Nora, and Jasmine went to find Puss, who was hiding somewhere in the castle, with Jasmine leading the way and calling out for Puss in cat speak.

Bae, Rennie, and Rafe went out to the stable to feed the horses, sheep, cow, goats, and chickens. Ivy puttered about happily in the kitchen, making some lunch. Aurora spun a few lengths of cloth for a new dress before she dozed off at her spinning wheel. Elaina was busy trying on some new lip gloss and eyeshadow as well as doing up her hair in some new styles that she had seen the girls in the fishing village wearing.

"You're allowed to wear make-up?" Kristen asked, watching her.

"I'm sixteen," Elaina retorted. "Papa said I could when I was old enough to court, and Rafe and I are dating. Besides, it's only a little, I'm not putting it on with a trowel like those tavern wenches at the Goose."

"Mom said some of those girls are loose women. What's that mean?"

"It means they make eyes at too many guys, especially ones that are married or drunk as pickled herrings," Elaina snorted. "They've got no taste and no breeding! I'd never do that. Papa would lock me in a tower if I did."

"Is he . . . really strict then?" Kristen asked worriedly.

"Only about some things. Like dating and using magic. Otherwise he trusts us to make good decisions. Until you do something to break that trust, and then you'll be in trouble."

"Like . . . he'll beat you?"

Elaina just shook her head. "Papa doesn't believe in beating children. He only ever spanks us if we've done something terrible, like the time Finn used his magic to almost dance a girl sick, or Jack lamed Rogue by riding her too hard, and . . . when I first came here to live, I was a horrid brat and . . . I threw a shoe at him in a temper because I wanted some stupid jeweled hair barrette and he wouldn't get it for me. That was the last time I ever did that, I can tell you!"

"Did he use a stick?"

"No! He would never. It's five smacks with his hand, but even so it stings awfully for a while. Especially if you've never been punished that way before. In my kingdom, people believed the royal personage was sacred, so no one, not even my parents, dared to spank me. Instead we used whipping girls . . . or boys. They got punished when me or my brother did something bad . . . it was supposed to teach us compassion for commoners and regret or something. But all it did for me was teach me that I could get away with misbehaving. Until I came here, and Papa taught me that I was responsible for my own actions . . . and their consequences. Did _your_ parents beat you?"

"Well, not so bad. Mama only ever used a switch on my legs, and then only if I did something dumb, like let people pet the animals or get too close to them. You can't be too careful when you run a circus. Except for Baron. He came to us tamed, as a cub, so you could trust him. But the big cats and stuff . . . they were too dangerous for anybody except Big Ralph or me to handle. The animals always liked me for some reason."

"Maybe you're a Beast Speaker, like Jasmine."

"I dunno. Mom told me that Rum said I have magic, but I never knew that."

"Has he tested you yet?"

"No."

"Well, when he does, he'll know what sort of magic you have and what you can do with it." Elaina said, twisting her hair up into a knot on her head. "How's that look?"

"Neat."

"Want me to do yours?"

"Okay, I guess." Kristen said, then sat on Elaina's bed while she twisted and braided her hair. She had never known anyone so good with hair styles before, usually she just braided her fair hair or let it run rampant. "You're really good at this."

"Practice," Elaina shrugged. "Since we don't have maids here, I had to learn how to take care of my own hair. Now I do it better than any lady's maid." She put Kristen's hair up, then secured it with a fancy hairpin. "There! Just don't run through any briars and you'll be fine."

"Thanks! You know, at first I thought you Golds were stuck up, living like you did in a castle, but I guess I was wrong."

"Us? Stuck up? Not with Papa around. He won't put up with that from any of us."

"He's so . . . different from the way I imagined a great sorcerer would be."

"How many sorcerers have you known, silly goose?"

"He's the first," Kristen admitted.

"Well, he's not your typical sorcerer," Elaina said.

"And _we're_ not your typical family," Kristen giggled.

"You can say _that_ again!" Elaina smirked. "Let's see if Ivy has some tea and cakes for us. I'm starving."

"Me too!" Kristen said, and followed Elaina down to the kitchen.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Nick, Jack, Tom, and Peter went looking for salamanders and toads, so they could play a trick on their sisters, while Ariel and Finn practiced some songs for their concert tomorrow night.

After some chicken soup for lunch and some bread, Belle decided to go out in the arbor and plant some of her rose bushes and seedling she'd brought from Shoe House. Rumple had told her the arbor was under used and she could do whatever she liked with it. Belle had a deft hand with roses, and cross grafted many varieties, especially those with sweet scents, which she used in making rose water for perfume, cakes, and rose oil for soft skin and also soap. She had taught her girls how to make sachets with dried roses and rose hip tea too.

She carried the seedlings and small bushes out in pots, but then realized she would need to clear out some of the dead bushes and weeds before even attempting to plant. "Ah, hells!" she swore, and went to find a rake or a hoe.

Jasmine, after finding Puss, grew bored and wandered outside to see what her stepmother was doing. Elaina and Rennie joined her, and soon all three girls were helping Belle pull weeds and turn over the soil.

"I can help you plant faster," Jasmine said. "Watch!" She held her hands out over a clump of stringy weeds and they shriveled up and blew away in a puff of dust.

"That's very useful, Jasmine," Belle praised. "What else can you do with your Gift?"

"Papa taught me how to talk to animals with it. And how to quick grow seeds and cuttings. So I can quick grow your roses when we put them in the ground. And magic the soil so it makes enough of the right kinds of nutrients to make the roses grow better."

"That will certainly save me a lot of time," Belle said quietly. "I must admit, your sort of magic is very useful."

Jasmine smiled. She liked being useful. It was far more rewarding than being a decorative princess, which was how she'd been treated back in her father's palace.

She shriveled up a few more patches of tough weeds before saving her magic to make the roses grow and working alongside Belle and Rennie and Elaina to remove all the dead wood and things out of the arbor patch.

As Belle began sorting through her seedlings and bushes to determine what varieties would go best where, Rennie said, "Mom always grew the best roses. We used to win first prize at the Rose Festival every year when she entered."

The Rose Festival was the local flower show, held annually in the fall, before harvest time.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Ariel, and Kristen helping me. And Phillip too. He helped water them every morning," Belle recalled, gently moving a pink and yellow rose bush into place. She wore green heavy cloth gardening gloves, so the thorns on the bush wouldn't prick her.

"I like roses," Jasmine said. "They smell lovely and look beautiful."

"Roses are useful too," Elaina said. "My old nurse used to make me drink rose hip tea. She said it did a body good."

"Roses are also the traditional flower for lovers," Rennie murmured, then blushed. "Bae brought me roses the first week he came courting me. He gave me one red rose and two smaller purple rosebuds. That meant that he fell in love with me at first sight and our love was secret, at least then it was!"

Jasmine giggled. "_I_ taught him the language of flowers. All the nobles in my kingdom knew how to use flowers to tell a lady they loved them. And one day he asked me if there was a way to let a girl know he loved her without just saying so. Of course, I didn't know he was serious."

"Are there many meanings to a rose?" asked Elaina.

"Oh, yes," Belle said. "I learned from my aunt Miranda that a rose's color and number has many meanings. Two varieties—the damask rose and cabbage rose—are great for making rose oil and rosewater, I have them here. Now, I take it you girls all know what a red rose signifies, but did you know that a single rose of any color means "I love you"? A dozen roses means that you love the person you give them to a dozen ways. Two roses on one stem indicates a marriage, and two dozen roses means you think of them every hour of every day. Three dozen means a romance unlike any other, and four dozen means your love is unconditional and forever. Pinks roses are for friendship."

"And yellow are for happiness and joy," said Jasmine.

"Orange roses are for desire," Rennie added.

"And purple roses mean majesty and enchantment," Elaina said. "I read that in an herbal in Papa's library."

"A white rose is for purity and innocence. And peach roses mean sincerity. Red and white roses symbolize unity, and a blue rose means mystery. Sometimes a pink rose can mean gratitude or sympathy," Belle instructed.

"And a black rose is for a funeral," Jasmine recalled.

"Roses are so versatile, that's why they're my favorite flower," Belle said. She carefully sifted the soil and began to plant some seedlings. "I often think of a rose that's blooming and growing like a person in love. You start out being attracted to someone bit by bit, and then before you know it the attraction grows and blooms into true desire and then at its peak, into true love for another."

"Is that how you felt about Papa?" asked Elaina.

"Oh, yes. That's exactly how I felt."

"I felt like that about Bae," Rennie admitted. "I wanted to tell you about him so many times, Mom, but he was afraid you'd disapprove of the sorcerer's son courting me."

"I might have . . . until I met his father and realized that a sorcerer isn't always greedy and selfish," Belle admitted. "Or power hungry."

"Papa says he learned not to be so the hard way . . . when he was first cursed with the dagger of the Dark One, he was filled with vengeance and hate, and he used his power selfishly. It took Bae and Ivy's love to break the spell . . . and Finn too at first. He always said true love breaks all curses, and the love of a child for his parent is one of the most powerful things there is. Besides a man's love for a woman," Elaina stated.

"I'm so glad he learned that lesson. Otherwise we might never have met and fallen in love," Belle said, smiling. "I learned a few lessons from Gaston the hard way too. Mainly that some men are too handsome for their own good and take advantage of innocent young girls who believe in happily ever after. I believed him when he promised me we'd always be together, and he would love only me. But he lied . . . and then he had the nerve to say it was my fault he sought out Jeanette, my maid of honor, because I was boring and he needed some excitement."

"Rafe says he only wanted you for your position," Rennie said.

"I'd say your brother was right. Gaston loved the trappings of power and once he realized I saw my position as one of responsibility, he took off for greener pastures. For someone who could show him a good time and not expect him to sit in on boring council meetings and be a father to his children. He was all flash and no fire."

"I'm glad I hardly remember him," Rennie said. "He sounds like a stuck up prig who needed a good boot up his behind."

Belle laughed. "I daresay he could have used one. He was nothing like Rumplestiltskin. I learned within two weeks that Rum was as constant as the North Star. And he loved _me_, not the princess I used to be. That's the most important thing, girls. That a man cares for _you_, not what your position is, or how you look, or how much gold your dowry is."

"Bae always said we could run away and live in a hut in the woods, and he wouldn't care so long as we were together," Rennie said.

"Oh, that's so romantic!" Jasmine squealed. "I can't believe my brother actually said that."

"Well, he did," Rennie grinned.

"Rafe told me he'd dress me in furs and fine leather, before he realized I could sew clothes myself," Elaina said. "I thought it was cute he'd try and provide for me, even though Papa said we'd all get a good dowry when we married."

"Sometimes Rafe is actually very sweet," Rennie said. "But sometimes he can be stubborn as a mule and make me want to kick him hard."

"Sometimes I want to push Bae in the horse trough," Elaina smirked. "Especially when he says I told you so. Boys! One day you want to kiss them, the next you want to strangle them."

"Sometimes I want to strangle Jack," Jasmine said. "Especially when he eats all the cookies I baked for dessert. Or he pulls my hair and calls me a "desert houri." But he only did that once before Papa heard him and washed out his mouth. I was mad at him for days though."

"Yes, men can be aggravating at times," Belle laughed. "But we women learn to live with their faults . . . like they learn to live with ours."

"And we love them in spite of them," Rennie said dreamily.

Jasmine patted the earth down over the seedlings she'd planted, then she concentrated hard. Suddenly the earth moved and a rose bush began to grow and bloom. Soon sweet smelling purple blossoms scented the air.

"That's my Purple Damask," Belle said.

"Can you do some more?" asked Rennie excitedly.

"Uh huh." Jasmine spun about in a circle, throwing out her hands. Golden sparkles drifted through the air and where they fell, roses climbed and bloomed.

Ten rose varieties, including red, orange, white, blue, and pink, grew and budded in mere moments.

Then Jasmine put a hand to her head. "Oh! I have a headache."

"You did too much with your magic too soon," Elaina sighed.

"I know, but it was fun," Jasmine admitted. "Now I think I need to lie down."

"Thank you, Jasmine, but I think we'll let nature take over from here," Belle said. "I have a tea you can take, little one. You shouldn't have done so much this afternoon." Now she felt bad that she didn't keep a closer eye on the girl, but dealing with sorceresses was new territory for her.

She led Jasmine inside and had her lie on the settle with a warm cloth soaked in rosewater over her eyes and drink some of her Headache Remedy.

Elaina and Rennie went to take a bath, for they were caked with mud and smelled like compost.

Belle rinsed her hands and face off in the kitchen, then went to see how Rum was faring.

She found him sitting up in a chair in their suite, quietly reading a potions periodical. "You look better, Rum."

"I feel better after that nap I took. You look rather flushed, dearie. What were you doing, baking?"

"No, I was putting some seedlings and bushes into the arbor with Jasmine, Rennie, and Elaina," Belle replied. "And I didn't watch Jasmine well enough and she overused her magic speed growing the roses and now she had a headache."

"Ah, Belle! Don't feel too bad, dearie. When we magic wielders are young, we learn our limitations by being knocked on our ass a few times. It happens to all of us. Sometimes Power is a harsh teacher, but you never forget what it teaches you. I'm sure Jasmine will be fine with a little rest by suppertime. And if not, I can always give her one of my restorative cordials."

"Restorative cordial?"

"Yes, it restores our magic to us quicker than simply sleeping," Rum replied.

"There's so much I need to learn about magic, Rum! About what you can and can't do with it. So I don't allow the children to make dreadful mistakes that can hurt them."

"I have a few books you can read. But all you need to do for a quick answer is to ask me, dearie. I know all my children's abilities and limitations. It's your three that I need to study on some more. As soon as I regain my strength, that is."

He took her hands in his and turned them palms up. "Look, you're bleeding."

"Sometimes the thorns pricked me through my gloves. I didn't even notice until now."

He brought each hand to his lips and kissed them slowly.

Belle gasped as a slow heat spiraled through her. "Oh! What are you doing, Rum?"

"Kissing it better," he answered, smirking.

"You . . . those are more than just kisses."

"Of course, dearie. You married a magician, remember? And while I'm no true Healer, there are some things I can do that an ordinary man can't." His eyes twinkled at her as he grinned roguishly.

"Rumplestiltskin, you are too much!" she laughed huskily. "You make me want to shove you on the floor and . . . umm . . . do unspeakable acts with you."

"Oh? Belle, if this blasted leg weren't still hurting me, I'd be happy to let you. And share a few unspeakable acts of my own. And this time I won't forget to lock the door."

She laughed. "Maybe tomorrow then?"

"Definitely."

She smiled at him, then said, "Wait here. I'll be back."

Soon she returned holding a lovely purple rose in her hand. "This means I love you, magic man."

He took the rose and suddenly another of deep crimson grew out of the same stem and twined around the purple one. "Red for love and marriage, dearie." He handed it back to her.

"You know the language of flowers?"

"Certainly. I might be a simple country sorcerer, but the country folk _invented_ that language, dearie. Because flowers were the one thing we could afford to give our sweethearts. You nobles just borrowed it for your own pleasure."

"Really? I learn something new with you every day, Rum." She bent and kissed him leisurely.

"And I'm learning from you too, Belle. How to love again, and not be expected to give up everything I am to satisfy my wife."

"Milah didn't know the first thing about true love," Belle said indignantly. "True love accepts someone for all they are and doesn't try to change you to suit their idea of how someone should be_._"

"You're right, dearie. But that's something I learned only by falling in love with you." Rumple said, and kissed her back tenderly.

"And it's a lesson I learned only by being thrown over by Gaston," Belle told him.

"It's too bad I couldn't curse him senseless. The scoundrel! He needs a good beating with an ugly stick," Rumple growled, incensed that any man could be so stupid as to hurt a lovely kind woman like Belle.

"Well, if you ever meet up with him, you can feel free to give him one," Belle laughed.

"That and being turned into a garden statue for a few months. Having birds crap on you certainly changes your perspective on how important you really are," Rumple added.

Belle was laughing so hard she almost fell on the floor. "Oh! Oh gods, Rum! I could just see it! It would be . . ."

"Perfect?" he queried, pulling her on to his lap. "I aim to please, dearie."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Mmm . . . I'm so tired. All the planting wore me out."

"Feel free to take a nap then. I can read another time."

"But your leg . . ."

"It's fine, dearie. You're light as a feather."

"Liar. I know exactly how much I weigh."

"Next to nothing when you're in my arms."

"Who says?"

"Me. Now aren't you going to be a good wife and listen to your husband?"

"When you say things like that I will!" She tucked the two roses in her hair.

He tucked his head into her shoulder and murmured, "Go to sleep, love. And I will too. If we miss dinner, Ivy will save us a plate."

"You must be crazy, to speak so like that."

"Oh, I am, dearie. Crazy in love with you."

Then she relaxed in his embrace and soon the two were fast asleep, curled in each other's arms, two halves of the same whole.

A/N: Hope you all liked. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	18. Frogs, Salamanders, and Toads, Oh My!

**18**

**Frogs, Salamanders, and Toads, Oh My!**

Ivy removed three pans of cornbread from the oven and also two apple pies, which she planned to serve tonight for dinner and dessert, along with whipped cream and some roasted pork ribs with a tangy sauce and some baked beans and frizzled onions. The ribs were slowly roasting in a pit outside that Bae and Rafe had dug for her and the two of them were out there swapping hunting stories and turning the ribs every fifteen to thirty minutes and drinking honey cider, which had a tang to it but was non-alcoholic.

Ivy put the cornbread to cool, covering it with some dishcloths, and then the pies beside it. She used her witchery to mix up a fresh batch of whipped cream and put it to sit in the spring house. She stirred the pot of beans and had put on a pot of tea to boil, because she felt like having some after cooking all afternoon, when she saw something run across the kitchen floor.

At first she thought it was a mouse, or even an ant, but then she recalled that with Puss in residence and Tom too, the castle was pretty free of those pesky creatures. She rubbed her eyes, maybe she was seeing things?

But then she saw a big green frog, hopping its way across her counter . . . right near her cornbread! And two salamanders scurrying beneath the kitchen table. Then a toad ran over her foot.

Now Ivy could see one or two creatures getting into the castle, since there were plenty of nooks and crannies for an amphibian to come in by, but four was too much of a coincidence. Grabbing a dishcloth, she swatted at the frog, yelling, for she knew just who to blame for this, "Jack Gold, I'm going to kill you! Get these . . . these _things_ out of my kitchen!"

She grabbed a broom and began swatting the scurrying amphibians, rather like an Amazon wielding a sword.

"Get out! Out . . . right now!" While she wasn't petrified of frogs and salamanders, she didn't want them in her clean kitchen and certainly not on the counter, for they could have diseases. "Jack, you're going to be in so much trouble!"

She heard the twin sounds of boys snickering, but couldn't spare the time to chase them while she tried to rid the kitchen of hopping pests.

"It wasn't just me, Ivy!" she heard her brother say in his most innocent tone. "Pete and Nick helped!"

Ivy shook her fist at the three troublemakers, who were sniggering in the hallway, before turning and lunging for the frog that was heading for the bean pot. "Come here, you stupid thing, before you become frog legs!"

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Bae brushed some hair off his forehead and drank the last of his glass of cider, saying as he did so, "It's hotter than hell out here now, Rafe. Maybe we should cool off in the pond."

"That sounds good to me," Rafe agreed. "Let's give these ribs a few more turns and then we can go stick our feet in at least." He got up and began to turn the spit over the fire pit where the ribs were basting. It looked like they were roasting two whole pigs, but it was just the ribs from them and some shoulder chops. He wriggled his boots, which had grown uncomfortably hot as the afternoon went on. He knew his mother and the girls had stopped gardening, because the heat made the roses wilt.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a scream.

"What was that?" Bae asked, standing up so quickly he knocked his empty glass of cider onto the ground. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"That . . . sounded like Rennie," Rafe said, half-drawing an arrow.

They ran into the castle, and as they grew closer they could hear more shrieks, and Bae recognized Clary's shrill wail. "What in hell is going on?" he cried as they raced in the back door.

Bae spotted Ivy trying to smash a salamander with a broom and called, "Where'd they come from?"

"Why don't you ask your brothers?" she snapped, whacking the broom onto the floor. "I think they infested the castle with their little prank." She managed to sweep one slow toad out the kitchen door.

"Those little brats are so dead once Mom finds out what they've done!" Rafe growled.

"Where _are_ they?" Bae wondered, for normally Rumple would have been downstairs by now, seeing what all the commotion was about. He took the stairs two at a time, the little girls' and Rennie's screams accompanying him.

Downstairs, the door to the conservatory banged open and Ariel called, "Why's everyone screaming? We can't hear ourselves practice."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rennie had just finished toweling her hair and wrapping herself in a terrycloth bath sheet when she felt something cold and slimy jump on her toe. Thinking it was a drop of water, she ignored it . . . until it ran up her leg.

Then she started screaming hysterically, for she hated creepy crawly creatures, but especially spiders and lizards. She jumped up and down and flapped her arms to no avail, for the startled red salamander gripped her shoulder with all four feet, then ran up her neck . . . and into her _hair_!

"Oh my gods! Oh my gods! Get it off! Get it OFF!"

She ran screaming into the hallway, clawing at her hair, her blue eyes wild with terror, not even realizing she had nothing on but a pink terry bath towel.

She ran smack into Bae, who was charging up the hallway. He grabbed her before the towel could part company with her and hugged her. "Hey! Take it easy, Ren! What's wrong?"

"B-Bae! Help! There's a . . . a . . . gross lizard . . . in m-my _hair_! Get it off! Oh gods, I can feel it _crawling . . ._" she was shivering and gasping, and trying not to scream as if she were dying.

"Shh! Stand still and I'll get it," Bae soothed.

"She's petrified of lizards," Rafe said as he came bounding up the stairs. "Frogs too. Where are those little brats?" He could hear similar shrieks coming from the playroom upstairs and went in that direction.

Elaina yanked open the door to the red bathroom and stamped down at the toad hopping at her feet. "Ugh! Filthy beasts! Get out of my bathroom!" She had a long towel draped over her hair and was dressed in a silvery robe with matching slippers.

"Oh my gods . . . Bae . . . _please_ . . ." Rennie whimpered.

"Relax, love. Stay still . . . I see it . . ." Bae said, his hands gently combing through her wet hair. Then they closed over the salamander. "Got it! It's okay, Ren." He put the petrified amphibian in his pocket, he would release it later. He patted her shoulder gently as she cried into his shirt. "Hey, you're all right now."

"I . . . I am?" she quivered for a moment more. "It's really gone?"

"Uh huh. You know, you smell like fruit," her boyfriend said appreciatively.

Rennie blushed . . . as she realized just what she was wearing. "Oh! Uh . . . I need to get dressed." She darted back into the bathroom. "And then I'm killing whoever put that bloody lizard in the bathroom!"

"Not if I get them first," Bae said, his eyes darkening. He turned toward the other end of the hallway just as Clary burst out of the playroom, screeching, "Bae! Bae! There's frogs an' yucky 'manders all over in my teaset!" She grabbed onto his leg and sobbed.

Bae bent to pick her up, thoroughly furious with his younger brothers. As he cuddled her close, he caught sight of the scamps smirking and then running past him. "Get back here, you little brats! Just wait till I catch you! I swear, I'm going to whack your ass!" he yelled.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumplestiltskin woke to the sounds of loud noises and Bae shouting. Bae hardly _ever_ shouted. Nor did he threaten his siblings with bodily harm . . . unless they'd truly ticked him off, and that was as rare as snow in summer. "Dammit! What do I have to do to get some peace around here?" he swore, sitting up.

Belle woke at his sudden movement. "Rum? What's going on? I thought I heard yelling?"

"I have no idea, but Bae actually is shouting, which means something pretty dire, dearie."

Now Belle could hear panicked screams too. "Good heavens! Is the castle on fire? It sounds like the invasion of Avonlea again!" She scrambled off her husband's lap. "Stay here, Rum. Let me see what's going on."

"Like hell, dearie. You're not going out there alone. What if there's danger?" He grabbed his cane and limped grimly alongside her to the door.

"Papa, those brats let salamanders and frogs loose in the castle!" Elaina snapped, glaring around. As usual, she was the first bearer of bad news.

"I'm going to beat every last one of them till they howl!" Bae snarled. "They scared Rennie half to death and Clary and the littles too!"

"Who did?" asked Belle, coming to stand before the door to the playroom. Inside, Rafe, Phillip, and Tom were chasing some frogs and salamanders around, trying to corner them and scoop them up into Rafe's shirt, which he'd taken off.

Nora and June were huddled in the far corner, clutching each other and screaming. June had started glowing like a lantern.

Kristen emerged with Baron from her room, trying to snatch up a toad that was croaking. "Mom! There're toads and lizards all over!" Unlike her sisters, reptiles and amphibians didn't hold any terror for her, she had dealt with far more dangerous animals when she lived with her circus folk parents.

Rumple scowled and pointed a finger. The toad jumping just ahead of Baron's curious paw and the two frogs and one salamander in the playroom were captured in glowing purple balls of light and floated out the castle window.

By then, Nora and June had run over to hug Belle and Clary was holding her arms out for Rumple.

"Papa, didja see all the frogs and salamanders?" Phillip asked, his eyes bright with discovery. "All of a sudden, they ran outta the walls or something. But Tom, Rafe, an' I caught 'em while they were jumpin' all over the tea set!"

Belle shuddered. "Disgusting! I can't abide frogs and I'm not too fond of lizards either."

"I hate them too!" Rennie said, coming out of the bathroom, this time dressed in a print blouse and navy ruffled skirt and shoes. "One of the little beasts crawled right in my hair. I almost _died_, Mom!"

"What's going on?" asked Finn, coming up the stairs along with Ariel. "Sounds like the roof was falling down."

"I believe your brothers have some explaining to do," said Rumplestiltskin sternly. "Finn, call them for me. You know the tune I use."

Finn gulped, then blew three sharp blasts on his flute. All the Gold children knew _that_ whistle—it meant _come here at once, you're in big trouble!_

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Five minutes later, three naughty boys were standing in a line in Rum's study with their noses in three corners of the room. Rumple and Belle were taking turns lecturing them as they walked back and forth, making sure they realized that this joke might have had serious consequences for everyone.

"How many of those . . . creatures did you let in the castle, Nicholas?" Belle demanded.

"Um . . . about . . . twenty," answered Nick.

"Twenty-five," Jack corrected.

"Good gods! You complain to me about doing math and yet you can tell me exactly how many frogs and salamanders you let into the castle?" Rumple demanded.

"Well, I caught most of them, Papa," Jack admitted, sounding a bit proud of that fact. Until he remembered he was in trouble.

"Tom helped," Peter muttered.

"But not when you decided to scare Rennie, Ivy, and the little girls," Tom objected. He was standing on the desk. "I told you _don't_ do that."

"You let _twenty-five _of those awful things into our house?" Belle gasped.

"Not quite so many. I think we got rid of four or five," Rumple told her.

"Still, that leaves twenty of those beasts running around!" Belle glared angrily at the three mischief makers. "You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves!"

"It was supposed to be funny," Nick said.

"I think two weeks without dessert and an eight o'clock bedtime will show you just how funny it is, young man!" his mother snapped.

"I agree. As well as you having to hunt down the rest of these pesky creatures and put them outside where they belong," Rumple scolded. "And you're lucky that's all you're getting."

"Yes, Papa," the three replied, almost in unison.

At dinner that night, the three miscreants were given bowls with cold cornbread mush in them, while the rest of the family ate the ribs, beans, crispy onions, and cornbread with butter, honey, and jam. Nick stared at his bowl and whined, "What's this?"

"It's what you're getting for dinner tonight," Ivy said angrily. "So eat it and like it. I almost broke my leg chasing those wretched frogs all over my kitchen."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Jack elbowed him and shook his head. "Shut up, Pete! Before she gives us something worse, like lima beans. We're lucky she didn't make our food taste like dirt or something."

"Dirt?" Nick cried.

"Uh huh. She did that to me once, after I sprinkled pepper in her pound cake," Jack sighed.

"But . . . but they were just frogs!" Nick objected.

"Who belong outside, not in my castle, Nicholas," Rumple said sharply. "Maybe you'll remember that next time you want to frighten your sisters."

"Yeah!" Clary glared at them. "You all was very _bad_!"

"She always has to have the last word," Jack shook his head. He had already apologized to each one of his sisters, but he knew an apology wasn't going to change his punishment a bit. His father always said that sorry was a beginning, not an ending. Meaning that sometimes an apology wasn't enough. He also knew he was lucky that Rumple and Belle had been giving out punishments and not Bae or Rennie, because he'd have ended up with a sore bottom in addition to no dessert and all.

Peter looked down at his bowl of mush and thought ruefully that he'd think twice about making Ivy mad again. He hadn't eaten anything tasting this bad since the time Ariel served burnt oatmeal for breakfast at Shoe House. And dessert was his favorite—apple pie and whipped cream. He wished he'd never listened to Nick and Jack. Their ideas sounded funny, but ended up all wrong.

Nick sighed and ate the yucky stuff, because he knew it was all he was going to get and he'd gone hungry before. He also wondered how on earth they were going to find all the salamanders and frogs left in the castle. Some of them had run away and hid in dark corners. What if they never found all of them? Would there be no dessert and early bedtime forever? Suddenly he began to regret his brilliant idea . . . a lot.

And so ended the Great Amphibian Caper.


	19. Puss's Hunting

**19**

**Puss's Hunting**

"I'm glad I missed all the excitement," Aurora said, as she'd fallen asleep as usual and missed everything. She made a face. "But I don't want some salamander chomping on my thread. Is there a way you can keep them out of my room?" She looked at Rumple as she said this.

"Yes. I'll make a ward to proof all of your bedrooms, this way we won't have another repeat of hysterics every day."

"We wouldn't have anything to worry about if certain _people_—" Rennie glared at her three brothers, "—had kept the wildlife where it belonged."

Nick flinched slightly. Serenity looked anything but serene now, and her glares were almost as bad as his mom's. Then he turned to Finn and hissed, "Hey, can you . . . umm . . . help us find all the frogs and salamanders and toads?"

Finn coughed, then answered behind his hand, "What do you think I am, dumb? I'm not going to use my magic just so you can get out of trouble sooner. Papa would flay me. No, you're on your own."

"Don't look at me either," Jasmine said, when Jack cast her a pleading look. "The only talking to any frog I'll do is to tell it to get out of my room."

Jack sighed. It looked like they were stuck getting rid of the frogs, toads, and salamanders on their own. And that could take weeks.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The next night, Jack, Nick, and Peter tried to hunt down some frogs and salamanders, but only found two of the pesky critters before it was time for supper. Unlike the previous night, they were allowed to eat what everyone else was having, which was roast venison wrapped in bacon with gravy, rice, a green salad, and honey glazed carrots. Jack hated carrots, but Rumple made him eat some, just like he did all his children, despite their complaints. "Vegetables are good for you. They fuel your brain. Don't give me that look, boy. You only have to eat ten bites."

"I'd rather my brain died," Jack groaned. He put one bite of a carrot in his mouth and then gulped down half a glass of water. It helped some.

"And I'd rather my son not put frogs and salamanders in my castle, but it looks like neither of us will get what we want tonight, will we?" Rumple demanded testily. His leg was paining him more than usual, and he was annoyed because he was hoping it would have healed by now so he could have some fun with Belle in private.

"Finn and I are going to have a concert tonight," Ariel declared brightly. "Finn wrote a song for you, and I'm going to sing it."

"That's great, Ari," Belle said. "I can't wait to hear it."

Finn blushed, he was fine singing other people's songs, but one of his own got him embarrassed, even when it was only his own family listening. He also had other songs planned, in case they hated the one he had written. "It's nothing much. Just a ballad to celebrate your marriage."

"I think that's very sweet of you, Finn," Belle said, smiling at him.

Finn's ears turned red at that and Rafe snickered, "Sweet as sugar, aren't you, music maker?"

"Shut up, Rafe!" Finn hissed.

"Leave him alone, Rafe!" Ariel spoke up in defense of her new brother and music partner. "Before I tell him what nickname Mom used to call _you_ when you were nine."

Rafe went pale. "Ari, don't you dare!"

"I will," his sister said, swishing her hair. "Unless you quit teasing him."

"Fine. Forget I said anything," Rafe said. No way was he going to let _that_ secret out. He'd never hear the end of it if his new siblings knew that. Only Rennie and Ariel knew about that ridiculous nickname, and Ariel only knew about it because Rennie had called him it once in a temper. But Belle had stopped using it once they got to Shoe House.

Nick's ears perked up. "What nickname, Rafe?"

"None of your business, Nick," Rafe answered, then helped himself to more rice.

Elaina looked curiously at her boyfriend. "Is it funny?"

"No! It's horribly embarrassing," he snapped.

"Will you tell me when we're married?"

"Maybe. When I'm drunk on my wedding night," Rafe answered.

Rumple looked askance at Belle. "What is he going on about, dearie?"

"Something I used to call him when he was little," Belle chuckled mysteriously.

"Mom! You promised you'd never tell!" Rafe cried, alarmed.

"And I won't," Belle said serenely.

"Even if I ask nicely?" Rumple purred.

"It's a secret," she said.

"I can always guess it," her husband said. "I'm good at that."

"You'll never figure it out," Rafe said confidently.

"Never say never to a sorcerer, Rafe. It's like waving a red flag in front of a bull," his stepfather answered.

Jack picked at his carrots, and only started eating again when his father gave him a Look. He wondered what kind of deal he could make to get Ariel to tell him Rafe's nickname. Then he'd have something to hold over the older boy if he happened to get in hot water again. Maybe he could buy her some new sheet music? Or one of those guitars—mandolins they were called.

Nick nudged him. "How are we gonna get the rest of the frogs outta the castle?"

"I don't know. But I'll think of something," Jack sighed. He mashed up two carrots and stuck them beneath some meat on his plate. Maybe his father wouldn't notice.

"Jack, I saw that," came Rumple's insistent tone.

There were times, Jack swore, that Papa had eyes in the back of his head. Or something like that.

**Page~*~*~*~*Break**

The concert went fabulously, everyone liked Finn's new tune, and Peter thought the only bad things about that night was having to go to bed early and miss dessert. Tonight they were having vanilla pound cake with chocolate frosting. Peter wished there was a way to persuade one of his younger siblings to sneak him some, but they were all mad at him for the frog incident, even Nora, so there was no hope of him getting a taste. Except maybe if Phillip could be talked into it.

He nudged his little brother as they made their way back into the dining room where Ivy and Belle had placed the cake, coffee, and milk. "Psst! Hey, Phil! Would you mind . . . umm . . .getting me some? Please?"

Phillip stared at him. "You want me to sneak you some dessert?"

"Yeah, just a tiny piece."

"When Mom wouldn't let _me_ have any dessert, _you_ wouldn't help me."

"That was different," Peter protested. How had Phillip remembered that? It had been six months ago!

"Doesn't seem any different to me," his brother answered. Then he turned and walked into the dining room.

Peter went to grab his shoulder and heard a throat being cleared behind him. Swallowing sharply, he looked behind him, praying it was just Bae or Rafe.

But it wasn't. It was Rumplestiltskin.

Peter wondered if the sorcerer had heard the conversation between him and Phillip.

Rumple raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look. "Isn't it bedtime for you?"

"Uh . . . yes, Papa," Peter sighed. Then he went upstairs, knowing his father was watching. Darn it!

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It was almost two weeks later and the three boys still hadn't found all the frogs and salamanders in the castle. They had found seven, which left about twelve, and they despaired of ever finding where the amphibians had gone.

"What if we never find them?" Nick groused to Jack. "Then we'll never get off this punishment."

"Yeah, we will. They'd never be that cruel," Jack said. At least he hoped so.

Just then Tom in his wagon darted out from the den, with Puss padding after him. "Jack! Help! She's stalking me again."

"She probably thinks you're a toy," Nick said, trying to grab the cat.

"Well, I'm not!" Tom cried.

Jack was quicker, and soon had the gray and white cat in his arms. "Hey, kitty! You be good and quit chasing my brother. You're supposed to chase mice."

Puss laid back her ears and meowed.

"What about frogs and salamanders?" asked Nick.

"She's a hunter. They chase anything that moves," Jack said, smoothing the irritated cat's fur.

"I wish Jasmine would talk to her," Tom sighed. "One of these days she's going to pounce on me."

"Nick, go find her. I think she's in the garden, planting seeds with Ivy," Jack said, still holding onto the cat, who was squirming to get away. "No, you don't. And if you scratch me, no treats."

Puss, who was normally a good natured cat, relaxed in Jack's hold. Then she gathered herself and leaped away, landing on the ground.

"Jack!" Tom cried, as the cat stared at him.

Jack bent and picked up Tom inside the wagon. "Don't worry. Jasmine can straighten this out. Why didn't you tell her before?"

"Puss wasn't following me like she is now," Tom said.

The cat sat on the floor and switched her tail lazily back and forth, her green eyes fixing on the two boys.

Soon Jasmine came into the hallway, and began to talk to the cat. "Mrr-reow!"

Puss looked up, came over to the girl, and rubbed herself against Jasmine's legs. Then she meowed back at her, cocking her head.

Jasmine replied with a few more meowing noises.

"What'd she say?" asked Tom impatiently.

His raven-haired sister turned around and said, "She says she wasn't trying to hurt you, Tom. But she wanted to know if you wanted to hunt with her."

"Hunt with her?"

"Yeah, like a hunt partner."

Tom beamed. "Really?"

"Really," Jasmine said. "She thinks you would make a good team. Hey, maybe you could ride her, like a knight on a horse."

"A cat knight!" Jack exclaimed, laughing.

"What's so funny about it?" demanded Tom, glaring at his brother.

"Nothing. I think it's really wicked," Jack said. "Just think, if Puss lets you ride her, you can go all over the castle and not need one of us to help you."

"Will she, Jasmine?"

"Let me ask her," Jasmine said.

The two had another short conversation of meows, then Jasmine said, "Puss won't mind you, if you're respectful of her, perching on her."

"All right! But . . . how can I stay on her back?" Tom asked. "It's not like I can put a saddle on her."

"Hmm . . . maybe I could ask Kristen. She might know what to do."

"That's right, she used to be in a circus," Tom said. "Good idea!"

"If Puss wants to hunt with you, you could help us hunt the frogs and salamanders," Jack said.

"Not unless Papa and Belle says I can," Tom answered. "You'll have to ask them."

"We have three days left of being sent to bed early with no dessert. And we still can't find all the salamanders and frogs that went missing," Jack said. "I know you could find them, Tom. You and Puss."

"They're probably hiding in the walls and stuff, where you can't see them. Or go after them," Tom reasoned. "If I found a way to ride on Puss, I could help you. As long as I was allowed."

Jack looked nervous. "But what if they say no?"

"Why don't you wait three days and then ask them? You could say that you, Nick, and Pete tried the best you could to find all the frogs, but you need help. _Professional_ help. You need me and Puss. Papa usually can be reasoned with, and I think so can Belle," Tom said.

"That'll give Kristen time to figure out some way for Tom to ride Puss too," Jasmine added.

"Okay. In the meantime we'll keep looking . . . but I think those sneaky lizards are laughing up their sleeves at us," Jack growled.

"Lizards don't have sleeves," Jasmine rolled her eyes at him.

"You know what I mean," Jack said indignantly.

"I'll go talk to Kristen then." Jasmine said, then she darted away, calling her curly-haired sister's name.

Puss walked up to Jack and rubbed herself around his ankles, purring and meowing pitifully.

Jack bent and stroked her. "Yeah, I know, I know. You want some treats. Come on, let's see if there's any leftover chicken for you. It's a good thing you're going hunting with Tom, otherwise you'd be a fat cat."

"Don't insult her," Tom scolded as he rode on Jack's palm.

"I'm not. It's true. I feed her, Phil feeds her, Ivy feeds her, and I've seen Papa and Belle both sneak food off their plates when she begs at them. How much can one cat eat?"

"A lot if she hunts."

"But she hasn't been. She's mostly been lying around on Phillip's bed, or in front of the fire, or on Belle's lap. So she's gonna get fat unless she exercises," Jack said. Then he followed Puss into the kitchen, the cat had learned the first week after living there just where all the food was.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Kristen's idea was to make a harness for the cat.

"A harness? Like on a horse?" Jasmine frowned. "I don't think Puss would put up with that."

"Hmm . . . okay, well what about a collar?" Kristen asked. "We used to have special collars for the bareback riders in our show. They had loops so the riders could hang onto them and do tricks off the horse's back. What if we made Puss a collar and put some loops and a strap or something on it for Tom to use? He could put his feet through them and stand on her like the riders did to their horses. He could wrap the strap around himself for extra support, or I could maybe make a little pommel for him to hold on to. What do you think?"

"That's a great idea, Kristen!" Jasmine clapped her hands. "Can you really make that?"

"Sure. I made harnesses and collars all the time back when I was part of _The Best Show in the Realms_. I just need some tools and some leather and some strong thread."

Kristen asked Rumple if he had any tools that could cut leather, like an awl and sharp scissors and heavy duty thread. Rumple showed her the box of tools out in the barn that he and the boys used to mend the horses' saddles and bridles. "You can probably find something in there. What are you making?"

"A collar for Puss," she answered, not wanting to give Tom away, especially because she knew the boys hadn't spoken to him yet.

"I see. Have you made one before?"

"Lots of times."

"When you're done with that, dearie, come and see me. I think it's time for me to test you and see just what sort of magic you have."

Kristen frowned. "But . . . don't I just have magic? There're different kinds?"

"There are different affinities of magic wielders," Rumple corrected. "For instance, Finn has an affinity for musical magic, and so does Ariel. Ivy's magic lends itself to cooking, and enhancing things, while Jasmine is a nature witch."

"What are you, sir?"

"I'm an elemental energy sorcerer, as well as gifted with knowing certain things about magic and magic wielders. It's how I can tell what affinity you are, Kris."

"This test thing . . . do I have to study for it? Will it hurt?"

"No to both questions. All I need to do is to cast a few basic spells on you that will tell me a few different things. They won't hurt at all and there's nothing for you to study, dearie. Then I can start teaching you like I do my other magical children."

Kristen nodded. She had seen him teaching Finn, Jasmine, Ivy, Ariel, and even little June in the mornings after breakfast. She wondered what sort of magic she had and what she could learn to do with it.

After she'd made Puss's collar, she would see.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Once the three days were up, Jack, Nick, and Peter approached Rumple and Belle and explained their problem with the frogs and salamanders to them. They also asked if they could have Puss help them along with Tom.

"Are you sure that's wise, Rum?" asked Belle nervously. "I mean, the cat can hunt, she's a cat and that's what cats do, but Tom?"

"Tom can do a lot of things you wouldn't believe, dearie," Rumple told her. "He's the one who catches all the flies in the castle and termites too. He has special arrows and even a small spear to do his catching with. I can make him armor out of acorn and nut hulls to protect him. Like the fairies use."

"And you're not afraid he might . . . get hurt?"

"Well, yes, but you can't keep him wrapped in cotton wool forever, Belle. He might be tiny, but he's also a boy, and he wants to be able to do things that boys do. So, as much as possible, I try and give him that. He knows his own limitations, Belle. He's got an amulet that will whisk him away from mortal danger if he ever needs it to. I'd never let him get himself severely injured or killed if I could help it."

"I'm sorry, Rum. Of course you wouldn't. It's just, he's so small, and I think about everything that could . . . um . . . harm him and it scares me," Belle admitted.

"I know. I worry too, sometimes. The same way I do when Bae practices with his sword or Jack jumps Rogue. But you have to let them choose their own path in life, and live the life they were born to live. There will always be some kind of trouble or danger and all you can do is protect them when they're small and teach them how to protect themselves when they're older."

"You're right. I'm just being a worrywart, as Rafe says."

"You're being a mother, which my children need, so don't apologize." He turned to Jack, Pete, and Nick. "You're allowed to have Tom help, but first tell him to come see me. I need to make him a few things if he's going to have a chance of driving those slimy creatures out of the castle."

"Okay, Papa. We will!" Jack said, then he raced away to find Tom.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Kristen finished the collar for Puss (and Tom) and then she waited for Rumple to finish Tom's suit of armor before getting tested by him. Rumple made Tom a little acorn cap, lined with a bit of goose down and cobwebs. He also made him a small shirt from leather and interlapping hulls of walnuts, kind of like miniature scale mail, modeling it on one of Jefferson's old mail shirts that he'd left in the castle. He made Tom a tiny baldric to carry his bow and thorn arrows, as well as his tiny iron chip knife. Belle gave him a rose thorn, which he made into a mini lance. The shirt and cap were hardened by magic, so that they were as hard as the finest mail coat and armor of a knight, but barely weighed anything.

Tom was thrilled with his new gear. "Now I look like a real warrior!" he crowed.

"Like a mercenary captain," Rumple agreed, even though he was only three and a quarter inches high.

"Where's Puss? Let's go hunt down some frogs," Tom said eagerly, waving around his rose thorn lance.

Puss's collar had two tiny loops stitched on with the tightest firmest stitches Kristen could make, so Tom could put his feet in them and either stand or sit on the cat's neck while she moved about. It also had a small strap with a loop that Tom could hold on to or put around himself when Puss was jumping. The cat hardly noticed the extra things on the collar and didn't seem bothered by it at all. The collar was made of soft blue leather.

Rumple called the cat, who came trotting into the study with her tail up, her white paws making no sound over the floor. Puss was mostly a charcoal gray over her back, tail, and ears, and white everywhere else, a very pretty animal with incredibly soft plush fur. Her blue collar was very fine looking and she came and jumped up on Rum's desk with a soft "mrrtt" sound.

Rum stroked her behind the ears and said, "Take care of my Tom, Puss."

Puss purred and rubbed her head against his hand, then remained still as Rum helped Tom into the collar. "You be careful out there, boy," he admonished.

"I will, Papa! See you later!"

Tom stood up easily with the aid of the loops, holding his thorn lance steady. At some unspoken signal, Puss jumped off the desk and trotted out the door.

Atop his furry steed, Tom felt like he could take on the world, or at least as much of the world as he could from the back of a cat. Puss moved in long gliding motions, so Tom never felt off balance, and could stand or sit on her without much effort. The cat seemed to know instinctively where to go, and Tom rode her deep into the castle cellars, where it was dank and cold and moldy—the perfect spots for amphibians.

There he and Puss found several of the missing frogs and salamanders, holed up in tiny corners and dark holes in the mortar and stone.

Whenever the cat came upon one, she would crouch down, tail twitching, and creep forward, her eyes shining green in the darkness. Tom, atop her, would wait until she got near, then swat at the frog or salamander with his lance, making it jump up and run.

Then Puss would bolt across the floor after it, quicker than lightning, with Tom hanging on and yelling, "Get it, Puss! That's my girl!"

Around and around the cat darted, until finally the frog or salamander was worn down . . . and then she pounced, capturing it with one well-honed swipe of her paw. Usually the critter was knocked out by her blow, but sometimes, especially with the salamanders, they would hiss and fight back.

That was when Tom would charge at them down from her back, poking it with his lance or shooting the thorn arrows into its sides and mouth until it quit fighting and was still.

All through the basement and the dark corners of the castle, Puss and Tom stalked and hunted, for four solid days, the loose frogs, toads, and salamanders. Most were captured by Jack, Pete, Nick, and even Phillip after being subdued by the pair and set free in the woods beyond the castle. But a few fell victim to Puss's claws and teeth, for she was, after all, a cat, and a cat hunts such things as prey.

Tom loved the way he and the cat could work together, stalking and capturing the amphibians, and while he ran into one or two sticky spots, Puss was always there to help him out of them, once even carrying him by the seat of his pants out of a hole he had fallen into chasing a toad. She was the ultimate hunting companion—quick, accurate, and dependable.

Finally, one morning, Tom galloped into the dining room at breakfast and announced that the castle was free of the frogs, toads, and salamanders.

"Yes! You did it!" Pete clapped.

"Oh, thank the gods!" Rennie breathed a sigh of relief. "Now I don't have to keep watching every step I make and looking under chairs."

"Three cheers for Tom, the Great Amphibian Hunter!" Jack cried, pumping his fist in the air.

"And Puss too!" added Phillip.

Everyone applauded, and Finn played a short victory aria on his flute, like they did for knights returning from the wars.

Puss pranced, getting petted and fed from all the family members, and Tom was put up on the table and given a tiny feast from Ivy of cake and tiny morsels of ham and eggs and biscuit crumbs. She gave Puss the first cream skimmed off the milk and a tin of sardines as well.

Rumple cleared his throat. "You've done us proud Tom, and we'll know who to call if we ever get an infestation of vermin again. But now I have another announcement to make. Kristen has recently discovered her magical Talent. Kristen, would you like to tell your brothers and sisters what you can do?"

"Umm . . . well . . . I'm a shapeshifter," Kristen said shyly.

"Like a werewolf?" asked Peter, his eyes wide.

"No, son. A werewolf is under a curse, and has to change at the full moon, and often loses his or her mind and becomes deadly, like a ravening beast," Rumplestiltskin explained. "But a shifter . . . can choose when to shift and what to shift into, she's not bound by anything save her own will. Kristen seems to have an affinity for three shapes so far—a bear, a hawk, and a marten."

"What's a marten, Papa?" asked Clary.

"It's a creature like a mink or a weasel, dearie," answered her father. "About the size of a cat, very quick and it likes to climb trees. A fierce little hunter."

"And you can become all those things?" asked Jasmine, impressed.

"Well, I will be able to. Right now I can't even make my hand change size," Kristen said.

"But she'll learn how to control her shifting, and someday she'll be able to fly like a hawk and hunt like a marten or a bear, and yet she'll understand human speech like always," her father explained. "That's a shifter's gift, that she keeps her own mind no matter the shape."

"Pretty wicked, Kris!" Rafe said.

The others all agreed.

Then Clary looked at Rumple and said, "When am I gonna have magic?"

"When you're older," Rumple said. "Then maybe you will, Clary."

"I think she already does have magic," Phillip said. "She can make almost all of us play with her, even when we don't want to."

"That's not magic, Phil," laughed Rafe. "That's just because she's the baby."

"I'm no baby, Rafe!" Clary declared, standing on her chair and putting her hands on her hips, for all the world like Belle when she was scolding one of them. "I is a big girl!"

Rafe lifted his hands in the air. "Well, excuse me, Lady Clarissa Gold. My apologies."

Clary sniffed. "Uh huh!" Then she sat back down with a thump and drank her milk.

Rafe shook his head. "Heaven help the poor boy _she_ marries."

"_If_ Papa lets him get through the door, you mean," Bae said. "Or me."

"Or me," Jack added.

"Me too," Phillip put in.

"Any boy she chooses had better have a heart of iron and the patience of a saint in order to survive Rum and all her brothers," Belle laughed.

"Thank gods that's not for a long time yet," Rumple said. "I have time to prepare some spells then to discourage the wretch."

"Rum, you're terrible! Do you want all your daughters to remain single and at home forever?" Belle teased.

"No, I want them to marry a man who loves them. And only a man who can do that will make it past me and my sons, dearie."

**A/N: Hope you all liked and I based Puss off my own late cat, a beautiful plush furred gray and white female named Magik. She waits now across the Rainbow Bridge with my mom. **


	20. The Horse Tamer

**20**

**The Horse Tamer**

Some people would say that Jack Gold was almost always in trouble of one kind or another. Jack himself would admit he had an impulse problem. He often acted first and thought later, though Rum was working with him to curb that tendency. Being only ten, Jack figured he had lots of time to correct that flaw, and so didn't work as hard at it as he might have. End result, he was in trouble more often than not, though sometimes the trouble wasn't always of his making.

Belle had arranged for patients in the village to see her at Shoe House, now her office, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays between 8 and 2 PM. That was usually the times when Rumple taught magic to the girls and Finn, and Bae taught sword lessons to Jack, and now Peter and Rafe as well. Aurora and Elaina took turns watching the smaller girls, teaching them how to match colors on clothing and spin. Tom and Nick often hunted with Puss in the castle.

Jack enjoyed almost anything to do with the outdoors—swimming, fishing, hunting, but especially riding. Horses were Jack's passion, and he could ride Rogue like a professional and even Flicker held no terror for him, though the colt often shied and started at sudden movement and noises, hence his name.

Jack also arranged for Phillip and Nick to have a few riding lessons on Rogue and since the afternoons were quite hot now that it was midsummer, he also decided to teach Phillip how to swim.

But Jack knew the pond behind the castle wasn't good for teaching a youngster how to swim, it was too deep and also remained quite cold even in the heat of the afternoon. It was great for fishing and even for putting your feet in to cool off, but not for having swimming lessons.

The creek behind Shoe House was much better for swimming. Jack and half the village children knew this, and they swam there regularly. So on the afternoons Belle was at Shoe House, Jack took Phillip down to the creek and taught him basic swimming lessons.

Phillip was rather in awe of his brother, as he was of Bae, Rafe, and Peter. He tended to follow Jack around as he did chores about the castle, and oddly enough, Jack never teased him like Nick. Instead he allowed the boy to observe what he did.

On their second day of swimming lessons, Phillip asked Jack why. "How come you don't mind me coming with you everywhere? Nick says I'm a little pest and annoying."

"Nick's also not much older than you." Jack remarked. "I don't mind 'cause once I was like you."

"You were?"

"Uh huh. Once I was the little brother and I followed Bae around like his shadow. Finn too sometimes. And most times they let me. So now it's my turn to have a shadow, and teach you a few things." Jack answered, tossing his wet hair from his eyes. "All right, now move your arms, forward and back. And kick your feet hard. Like you're trying to swim away from a sea monster."

Jack stood in the middle of the creek, and had Phillip swim towards him.

The little boy floundered for a moment, and Jack swam beside him, putting an arm beneath his brother to steady him. "You're doing good, Phil. Keep on paddling."

When Phillip got tired, Jack let him stand up, since the creek was about four feet deep. "I'm doing it, Jack!"

"Yeah, soon you'll swim as well as me," Jack praised.

Phillip grinned. He wanted to do something as well as his bigger brothers.

Then one of the village boys called over to Jack, asking him about the best way to soothe a fractious horse. Jack splashed his way to the boy and began talking to him, leaving Phillip to splash about in the shallows, playing in the cool water.

Now it so happened that afternoon a new boy came down to the creek. His name was Raynard de Brabante, the twelve-year-old son of a baron who had recently moved into the area, renting the large house from Hans just outside the village proper. Until now, Ray had not wished to mingle with the village children, considering them beneath him. But the heat had driven him from his backyard and down to the village, where he found that most of the children had retreated inside to nap or to the creek to cool off.

Ray was a handsome boy, with curling auburn hair and big gray eyes, wearing light blue silken hose and a shirt with a crimson vest and fine leather shoes, much better than what the children of Valley Way dressed in. He stood at the edge of the creek, watching the other boys and girls talking and frolicking in the water, his lip curled.

He thought peasants were stupid, but he didn't have anyone his age to play with, so he supposed he could talk to one or two of them.

Phillip hardly noticed the boy standing there, he was too busy pretending he was a seal, and as he splashed about, he sprayed water on Ray.

Ray gasped and cried, "You stupid little idiot! Watch what you're doing! You almost ruined my shirt."

Phillip looked up, puzzled. He saw a handsome boy around Jack's age dressed in fancy clothes, and wondered why he was making such a big deal over a few drops of water. "It's just water. It's not like you got dirt on your clothes."

"Shut up, brat! When I want an opinion, I'll ask for it," Ray growled.

Phillip glared at him. "I'm not a brat and if you didn't want to get wet, why'd you come here?"

Ray felt foolish, especially being taken to task by a smaller boy years younger than he was. Some of the other children were looking at him and giggling at the fuss he was making. That made him embarrassed, and Ray was not one to take such a thing well.

"Don't you talk back to me, you rude little beggar!" he shouted, then he waded into the creek and shoved Phillip hard.

Phillip fell over backwards and the water closed over his head. Scared he was drowning, he flailed about, screaming in panic. "Help! Help! Jack! I'm drowning!"

Ray smirked and shoved the little boy's head under the water again, thinking how stupid this peasant boy was, to think he could drown in such shallow water.

Jack heard Phillip yelling and turned around just in time to see a strange boy shove Phillip under the water. "Hey! You stupid ass! He can't swim really well. Let him alone!"

Ray whirled about. "Who're you calling stupid?"

"You, you dumb twit!" Jack spat, rushing back to help Phillip. He reached the little boy and picked him up. Phillip was coughing and half-sobbing. "It's okay, I've got you."

"J-Jack, I-I almost . . . drownded!" Phillip's eyes were wide and he was shaking.

"No, you're okay."

"Aww . . . does the little baby want his mommy?" sneered Ray.

Jack's eyes flashed. There was nothing he hated more than a stuck-up bully who picked on little kids. He set Phillip down at the creek's edge and said, "Go on over to Shoe House and get changed. I'll take care of this braying ass who likes to pick on little kids."

Phillip sniffled and raced back towards his old home, wearing only a set of underthings, as most of the boys swam with them or sometimes without anything at all if the girls weren't around.

Jack turned to face the sneering Ray and glared at him. "Who do you think you are, hurting my brother like that?"

"I should be asking _you_ that question, peasant boy! Who do you think _you_ are, talking to your betters like that? _I'm _Sir Raynard de Brabante, the son of Lord Merrin de Brabante, now show some respect."

"Respect? To a spoiled rich brat that likes to beat up six-year-olds?" Jack snarled. "Don't make me puke, prissy boy. Just 'cause your papa's a lord doesn't make you any better than me. My name's Jack Gold, and I'm the son of Rumplestiltskin, the sorcerer that lives in the Dark Castle. Wanna make something of it?"

Ray was incensed. Back at his estate, no one would have dared to talk like that to him. Especially not some peasant lout dressed in soaking wet brown breeches without a shirt or shoes. "You're an insolent snipe! One who needs a good lesson in manners."

Jack snorted. "From you? You're nothing but piss and wind. And a coward who picks on little boys!" he doubled up his fists.

That was more than Ray could stand. He sprang at Jack, and tried to punch him in the mouth.

But Jack had been in more than his fair share of scraps, and he dodged the punch and landed one of his own—right in Ray's eye.

"Attaway, Jack! Give it to the high-born snot!" cheered one of the village boys. They didn't think too much of the dandy boy who couldn't even say how d'you do to them when he passed them in the street.

Ray yelped and fell backwards, but he soon came back at Jack, hitting him on the shoulder.

Jakc shrugged off the blow, he'd had worse, and hit the other boy right in the teeth, knocking the noble off his feet. "Maybe that'll teach _you_ to quit picking on little kids!"

Ray sat there, stunned by how quickly Jack had reacted, and also how the other boys were now laughing and sneering at him. Redfaced and humiliated, he climbed to his feet and ran off.

"Ha! Guess you showed him!" laughed Marcus, the son of a grocer.

Jack shrugged. "He was a bully, they always turn tail and run." He felt quite good about giving the highborn dandy a taste of his own medicine. Then he went back and swam with the rest of the village boys.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Of course, Phillip told Rumple what had gone on that afternoon, and the sorcerer sighed and said, "Jack, what have I told you about fighting?"

"Not to, unless someone starts with me. Well, that dumb idiot started with Phillip, so I finished it." Jack said, a touch rebelliously.

"I understand you were defending your brother, but am I going to expect some angry parent showing up on the doorstep demanding your hide?" Rumple asked. "What exactly did you do to him?"

"I gave him a black eye and a split lip. The usual things," Jack admitted. "I had to, Papa! That stuck-up snot was drowning Phil and then he expected me to kiss his feet. He called me peasant boy and acted like I was dirt."

Rumple sighed. "You were right in helping your brother, but you should have told your mother if that brat was bothering you, not gone and hit him."

"Like I said, _he_ started it. And I don't think you have to worry about him telling his papa about it. Not unless he wants to look like coward for picking on little kids."

"All right. But if he starts anything with you next time, Jack, pretend he doesn't exist. That will annoy him far worse than bloodying his nose. And keep the brat from lying to his father and accusing you of attacking a noble. His kind are nothing but trouble, Jack, and I don't want you mixed up with him."

"He can go jump in the creek, Papa. He's a stuck-up snot and I wouldn't give him the time of day," Jack said.

"Good. Maybe they won't stay the summer. There's not much high society here to keep blue bloods entertained like there is in the city," Rumple said hopefully. He had never met the elder Lord de Brabante, but if his son was anything to go by, Rumple knew he'd not like the baron at all. He'd never done well with arrogant nobles.

"I hope they run back to wherever it is they came from," Jack said hotly.

"Until they do, do yourself a favor and stay away from them," his father ordered.

"Okay," Jack agreed. He doubted he'd have much trouble from the baron's son after the black eye he'd given the other boy.

Little did he know that Raynard de Brabante never forgot an insult, and never forgave a slight to his supposed honor. Jack's humiliation of him had made Ray consider the blond-haired boy his mortal enemy.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Jack continued giving Phillip lessons, and during the next three days, saw no more of that stuffed shirt Raynard. Until the next Saturday of market day, when everyone gathered to buy and sell and make merry. A horse trader had come to Valley Way with a string of horses to sell, some were work horses and others riding horses, and one was a fine blooded destrier that a knight up north had lost in a tournament. The horse had been sold to the trader by his conquering opponent, and now the trader was looking to get the beast off his hands, for the destrier was high strung and no one could stay on his back for very long.

Jack was looking at the horses and stroking a few of them, he could never resist a horse, even though many of those here couldn't hold a candle to Rogue or Flicker. Except the warhorse off by himself, who was almost seventeen hands, a fiery bay with a deep black mane and tail and four black stockings on his feet. The stallion tossed his head and snorted, half-rearing as people strayed too close to him. His hooves, nearly the size of dinner plates, struck the earth with a hollow sound.

Jack whistled, and the stallion peered at him through his thick forelock. "You're some horse, aren't you, boy?"

"Too rich for the likes of you, peasant boy," Ray said, coming up and smirking at Jack.

Jack turned. He knew he should just ignore the other boy, but Ray grated on his nerves. "He's too much horse for you to handle, noble brat!"

"I've been riding since I could walk!" Ray objected. "How long have you been riding—since last year?"

Jack bristled. "Four years, but I bet I can ride better than you. You high-borns like to brag, but you can't stir a foot without a commoner to wipe your ass."

"At least I don't smell like a pig, farm boy!"

"No, you smell like a girl," Jack sneered. "Prissy fop!"

"Ignorant idiot!"

"Look who's talking! You don't know anything. I bet I have a better education than anything you've gotten from your private tutors. My papa's the smartest man in seven kingdoms and he taught me more than you could learn at university."

"Liar. I heard your papa's naught but a scheming hedge witch, a country sorcerer who just knows how to take mange off cows and make goats give milk and cast the evil eye on people."

Actually, all Raynard knew about Rumplestiltskin was that he was the local sorcerer, he'd not paid much attention to what the servants at the house said about him, which was that Rumple was not one to cross, and the infamous Dark One of legend.

"I'm no liar! Ask anyone here about Rumplestiltskin and you'll find out that he's the strongest sorcerer in this kingdom . . . or anywhere else. But you're too stupid to ask anyone anything, prissy boy. You're like a peacock, strutting around with his tail spread, all crow and no brains."

"Better a peacock than a stinking chicken!" Raynard spat.

Jack was about punch him out when Finn appeared. "There you are, Jack! Papa wants you back at the booth, says it's your turn to sell some potions with Aurora."

"Better get back to work, peasant boy!" Ray sneered. "Got to earn a living so your family doesn't starve!"

Jack gave him a rude gesture with a hand and turned away.

"Who was that little ass?" asked Finn.

"That was his high-and-mighty Raynard de Brabante, the baron's son. They just moved here and are renting Hans's summer house. You know the one I mean."

"Yeah. Sounds like that strutting twit needs a good thrashing," Finn snorted.

"I already gave him one for hurting Phillip."

"Well, if he gets on his high horse again, let me know, and I'll give him another one," Finn said coldly.

"He was making fun of Papa. Called him a hedge witch."

"Then he definitely needs my fist in his face," said his brother. Finn, perhaps more than any of Rum's sons, hated anyone insulting his father. Nothing could get the young minstrel's temper up quicker than someone talking trash about Rumplestiltskin.

Jack just nodded. He couldn't argue with that. But his mind wasn't on Ray right then. It was on the spirited stallion, and the way he tossed his head and pranced. Jack wished he could buy the big horse, and ride him about like a knight on a charger.

He daydreamed about the horse while he stood behind the potions booth, imagining himself riding the bay across the fields, racing the wind.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Meanwhile, Belle and Rumple were in the teashop, Teas and Trinkets, having a light lunch and a pot of orange spice tea with honey and lemon. It was the first time they'd had an opportunity to be alone for longer than an hour since their honeymoon, unless they were sleeping.

Belle was enjoying the interlude, eating cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches and telling Rumple about some of her sillier patients, like Missus MacCreedy, who came to her every other week with a new ailment she was positive she was dying from. "She's fit as a fiddle, but I can't tell her that. She won't hear of it. So I prescribe her some tonic in a blue bottle and off she goes to take to her bed for a week."

"What's in it?"

"Nothing but some sugar water. Of course she thinks it's some new medicine, and drinks it down to the last drop," Belle laughed. "Between you and me, Rum, I think the old woman's lonely. Her kids have moved away and her husband's dead, so she wants attention."

"That's one way to get it, I suppose," the sorcerer said, eating another small sandwich of ham salad on dark rye. "Gods know I'd pretend to be sick if it meant being taken care of by you, dearie."

Belle laughed. "How's your leg now, Rum?"

"It's fine. It's been all right for the past few days, only you've been too tired to appreciate that fact," he smirked roguishly.

"But I'm not tired now, love," she said, arching an eyebrow meaningfully.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" he queried, his mouth quirking.

"Shoe House is closed right now. And empty."

"And our children are busy shopping or selling potions and don't need us," Rumple finished. "So, once we're done here, my brilliant Healer, let's go pretend there's an emergency."

"Are you dying of a deadly disease, Rum?" Belle snickered.

"Yes. It's called pining away for your touch," he replied, lifting the rim of his cup to his lips. "I'm fading away bit by bit. And only you can bring me back to life."

"I'll be happy to examine you. Once I've drunk my last cup of tea." Her eyes twinkled merrily over her teacup.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Being dead has never felt so good in my life," Rumplestiltskin said, twining his fingers in his wife's lush dark hair.

They lay curled on the bed, half-drowsing in each other's arms, their first round of desire sated . . . for the time being.

Belle propped herself on her elbow, so she could gaze into her husband's sparkling brown eyes. "Bringing someone back to life has never felt so . . . satisfying."

"Let's do it again, shall we?"

"But shouldn't we go check on the children?"

"Not yet. It's only two'o'clock. We have time," he murmured wickedly. Then he captured her mouth with his, kissing her passionately.

Belle said nothing else, for Rum's kisses made her head spin like fine wine, and she really didn't want to leave their cozy hideaway just yet. For once, she wanted time to stand still, and let her enjoy her husband, whose touch she had missed while he was convalescing. Magic's price had released him at last, and she wasn't about to waste this opportunity, since there were so few of them in a castle with eighteen children.

_It's a good thing I left one bed behind in here,_ she thought, once she was able to breathe again. _Aunt Miranda always did say I had a smidgen of the Sight._

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

On Tuesday, Jack was hanging around the tavern, as he liked to listen to some of the stories the retired mercs down there told. Sometimes one of them would buy him a cider or a juice, and if Archie were working then, he'd eat lunch with him. Today, however, there was none of the usual talks about battles won or lost, or about slaying dragons and sneaking past giants. Today all there was were rumors about de Brabante's demon stallion, that he had gotten for a song from the horse trader on Saturday.

"I heard that noble idiot paid top price for a horse for that brat of a son of his and now the kid can't even ride it."

"Yeah, I heard that he won't _let_ the kid ride it. Afraid he'll break his neck."

"No kid is able to ride a warhorse anyhow. Those beasts are killers."

"What kind of idiot buys his kid a horse and doesn't check it out first?"

"A noble with a lot of money and his thumb up his ass is what. Now he's stuck with a horse that's crazy."

_Crazy? The horse didn't seem crazy to me when I saw it,_ Jack thought. _Just high strung._ But then, warhorses were normally that way. Bred for battle, of course they'd be jumpy. _I bet none of his grooms knew how to settle him down the right way. _

"I heard that it took seven grooms to get that demon horse in his stall. Almost kicked one of them to death."

"Yup. And even that fancy head groom de Brabante's got, the one that supposedly has horse magic, he can't even get on his back," guffawed Steve, who used to work with horses back with his company. "He tried and the horse sent him almost clean outta the kingdom. Poor bastard's laid up with a broken leg and some ribs down at Healer Belle's old place."

"Ain't nobody ever gonna ride that demon horse," predicted old Evan. "De Brabant's wasted his money, sure."

"The horse was probably mean and unridable before de Brabante bought him. That was why it was sold in the first place. Because no knight wants a demon animal he can't trust."

"I heard the stallion is mighty fine to look at," remarked Alan.

"Yeah, when you're lookin' up at him from the ground, dead. Looks ain't much if you can't stay on his back and he tramples you into the dirt."

"De Brabante should just take him out and shoot him. An arrow in his brain would solve everything," said Dirk, playing with his long knife. "And next time don't listen when his brat whines I want this, daddy!"

Several others nodded. "Heard that kid's almost as bad as the horse. Treats everybody that works there like they're beneath him."

Dirk snorted. "Yup. And that's typical of these noble little brats. Their parents let 'em get away with that stuff. Me, I'd haul the brat across my knee and tan his hide before I took that from him."

"Just what he needs anyway."

"He might need it, but Baron de Brabante would run you outta town for doing it," said Lefty Lewis.

"Nobles! Think they own everything!"Big Bart spat, then signaled Mike the barkeep for another round. "I wish he'd move back where he came from. Don't need no fancy pants around here telling us what to do."

"I heard even Rumplestiltskin won't talk to him."

"Or maybe _he _won't talk to the Dark One."

"Ooh-wee, there'll be trouble all right if that noble ass is snubbing our sorcerer," Mike sniggered as he wiped down the counter. "Sparks'll fly then all right."

"Yup. Old Rumple'll set him straight but good!"

"Yeah, he tries to go head-to-head with Rumplestiltskin and he'll be missing his, sure enough!"

There was some goodnatured backslapping and more rounds of drinks bought. But Jack slipped out the door, not minded to listen anymore. It was true, de Brabante hadn't even stopped by the castle to introduce himself like a good neighbor, which led a lot of the villagers to label him a toff, because to them, Rumplestiltskin and his new wife Belle were about as gentry as you got here. They regarded the nobleman's apparent lack of manners as a black mark against him and his son, who was the type of spoiled brat they detested.

Jack couldn't blame them for that. But Raynard wasn't his main concern. What had happened to the destrier was. Crazy and mean. A demon horse. What had they done to the poor animal, he wondered. Being mistreated could make a horse crazy, especially one that had a spirited temperament to begin with. Jack shook his head. He knew he couldn't do anything about it now, but he wished he could help the destrier, who was probably as miserable living at the nobe's house as Jack would have been working for the twits.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

At supper that night, Belle told the family about Jim Morton, the head groom who worked for de Brabante. "Melisande and her mother, Penny, are caring for him right now down at the office, since I don't want him moving on that leg until the plaster has time to set. He's lucky all he got was a broken leg and some ribs from riding a wild horse like that."

"Maybe the horse wasn't wild. Maybe he was just scared," Jack defended. "It was a new place and all. He wasn't used to it."

"Maybe the horse was lonely and needed someone to talk to," Jasmine piped up.

"Well, that may be so, but whatever the reason, he hurt a man. Although I will say that Jim's not blaming the horse so much as de Brabante's son," Belle mused.

"Figures," Jack snorted. "That kid's always starting something."

"He tried to drown me in the creek, Mom!" Phillip said.

"He what?" Belle gasped.

"He shoved my head under the water, but Jack came an' rescued me!" Phillip announced, despite Jack's motions to be quiet.

"And when was I supposed to know about this?" Belle demanded.

Jack gulped. "Umm . . . well . . ."

"I forgot to tell you, dearie," Rumple covered for him smoothly. "It slipped my mind."

"Really?" Belle arched an eyebrow at him. "Senility's starting already?"

The sorcerer sighed. "It was just a scrap, Belle. I didn't want to alarm you."

"If some high-born brat is bullying my boy, Rumplestiltskin, I want to know about it."

"Then next time, you shall," he said, covering her hand with his in a conciliatory gesture. "But hopefully there won't _be_ a next time, if Jack does what I told him to." He eyed Jack down the table.

"I'm trying," Jack muttered. But he wished the burden wasn't falling all on him. Someone needed to take Ray in hand too and tell him what's what. "Phil, you should have kept your mouth shut."

"Sorry. I didn't know Papa didn't tell her," said the little boy.

Finn ruffled Phillip's dark hair. "Don't worry, kid. If that snot starts with you again, you come get me. I'll send him crying home to his mother."

"Finn!" Rumple's voice was soft with warning.

"I know, Papa. I won't provoke him, but if he does anything to Phil, I'll knock him down on his privileged ass," his son answered.

"So will I," Rafe added. "How old is he, anyway?"

"Close to my age, I think. Twelve or so," Finn answered.

"Too young for me to do anything except threaten to tie him to a tree for the bears to munch on," Bae sighed. "But I will if he gets out of line again."

"I'll help," Rafe said. "I've got some extra sinew in my pack."

"Me too," said Peter. "I'm sure if his mom knew what he was doing, looking down on other folks, he'd have some serious explaining to do."

"Does he even _have_ a mother?" wondered Jack.

Belle frowned. "Now that you mentioned it, I haven't heard anything about a lady de Brabante. Maybe they're estranged. Or she died."

"Or maybe she went crazy and he locked her up in an attic," Ivy speculated.

"Ivy! Where on earth did you get that idea?" Rumple asked.

"From _Jane Eyre_, Papa. Rochester did that to his first wife, remember?"

"Oh, dearest gods! Between your literary plot ideas and your brothers all wanting to go pound on de Brabante's son, we're going to have a war here before long. Which I do _not_ want. I want all of you to stay away from any de Brabante, and off their property, unless you're invited, am I clear?"

He fixed all of them, especially Jack and Finn, with his eagle-eyed stared.

They all dropped their eyes and murmured acknowledgments.

Crisis averted, Rumple asked calmly, "Now, who made what for dessert tonight, dearies?"

"I helped Ivy make strawberry tarts!" June announced.

"An' Jasmine and I made chocolate cookies!" Clary exclaimed.

"I made lemon bars," said Nora shyly. "Elaina helped me."

"Wonderful! Then we'll all have a buffet to choose from," Belle said.

"What did you make, dearie?"

"Coffee. And if I don't drink some now, I'm going to fall asleep right here," the Healer admitted.

Rumplestiltskin leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I'm sure I can find _something_ to keep you awake this evening, love."

"Stop it, Rum!" she ordered, coloring faintly. "The children!"

"Don't know what I'm saying to you. Unless you tell them."

She smacked him lightly on the arm. "You're insatiable!"

"Only for you, dearie," he smirked, and had the satisfaction of seeing his wife blush all the way down to her toes.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Despite his intentions to obey Rumplestiltskin, Jack found it almost impossible to do so on Wednesday, when he heard Ray boasting down by the mill to some of the village boys that he could ride the demon stallion his father had bought from the horse trader.

"I heard that your head groom almost got killed by that horse," said Evan, the mercer's son.

"Morton's no real horseman," Ray said dismissively. "He was afraid of that horse the moment we brought it into the yard. But **I** wasn't. I walked right up to him and looked him in the eye and I said, "I'm your new lord and master, now settle down!" And you know what? He did! Then I climbed on his back, and even though he was snorting and pawing the air like a devil, I rode him all around the yard, like he was a rocking horse."

The other boys, of whom there were about five, most of them around Nick and Jasmine's age, seemed awed. They stared at Ray as if he were some kind of god.

Jack was disgusted. "That's the biggest load of horse dung I've ever heard, de Brabante. Your story's got as many holes in it as a sieve. I heard my mom say yesterday that Morton told her your father forbid you to ride that horse because you'd break your neck."

"That's a lie, Gold!"

"You calling my mom a liar?" Jack demanded, his fists clenching.

"Your mama probably lies like a rug, since she's the wife of a sorcerer!" Ray sneered.

The children watching gasped, for they all knew Healer Belle and her sterling reputation.

"You take that back, prissy boy! Before your teeth are decorating the doorstep," Jack growled.

Ray backed up slightly. "I ain't afraid of you, Gold!"

"Prove it! Put your money where your mouth is, coward! I want to see you ride that horse like you said."

Ray stiffened. He couldn't let the village children see he was lying, he'd lose face with them. He tried frantically to think of a way out. "Why don't _you_ ride him first, Gold? Let's see if you're such a great horseman after all."

"When, where, and for how long?" Jack snapped. He was tired of this arrogant snipe and was determined to put him in his place, once and for all.

"Right here, right now, for fifteen minutes."

"And if I win, I get the horse and _you_ apologize for insulting my mom . . . _and _my papa too," Jack bargained.

"And if you lose, _you_ get down on your knees and kiss my feet and tell everybody what a pansy-ass coward you are and so's your family," Ray crowed.

Jack fixed him with a look that should have melted him where he stood. He knew he couldn't back down now, and he wouldn't. "Done!" he said, and spat on his hand and held it out to seal the deal.

Raynard grimaced and clasped the other's hand. Then he swiftly let it go and wiped it on the side of his trousers, as if Jack had some scurvy disease. "I'm going to go and get Demon and one of my grooms. Don't go anywhere, peasant boy. Be right back!"

"Hurry up," was all Jack said.

When Ray returned, with one of his grooms leading the fractious stallion, with a cloth tied around his eyes, he brought more onlookers with him, including some of the retired mercs from the Goose and Archie as well. Word had spread fast about the bet between the two boys, and many of the villagers wanted to see Jack make this arrogant newcomer eat his words.

A crowd followed them to the small round pen where the horse trader had his horses on Saturday. The groom opened the gate and pulled the cloth from the stalllion's eyes, then gave the big horse a rough smack so it ran into the pen. "There, Master Raynard! He's all yours!"

"Shut the gate, Paul! Now we'll see if Gold here is brave enough to meet Demon!" Ray shrilled. "That's what I call him . . . 'cause he has the devil in him."

Inside the pen, the stallion was trotting around and neighing, tearing up great clods of earth with his big hooves, and tossing his head. Froth flew from his mouth and the whites of his eyes showed as he rolled them from side to side. He paused and reared, his magnificent tail falling to the ground, screaming out in challenge, his front hooves lashing out.

Those watching stepped back and muttered.

"Maybe there really is a devil in that horse."

"He looks like he wants to eat someone."

"Jack, are you sure you want to do this?" Archie asked, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "That horse could kill you."

"I made a deal, Archie," Jack sighed, looking at the older boy. "He's just a horse."

"He could trample you like he did Jim. And if your father found out what you're doing . . . he'll kill you," Archie predicted gloomily.

"Either way I'm dead," Jack shrugged. Then he opened the gate and stepped inside. He closed the gate behind him and winced as it latched shut.

Before him, the stallion pawed the ground and screamed, a high, wild cry. Foam splattered from his lips and stained the ground.

Jack watched, thinking quickly, _Are you insane? This horse is so angry and frightened, he'll hurt you without meaning to._ In the back of his mind, he could hear Papa's voice, admonishing—_Think three times, Jack, before you make a decision._ Jack winced. _Three times, Papa always tells me, and here I go and make a deal without thinking three seconds. I'm such a hopeless idiot._

He took two steps forward, watching as the destrier swept about the corral, his black mane and tail drifting like smoke on the wind behind him. He was beautiful, with his deep red coat and black points, he must have made some knight a wonderful mount.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he took in how the horse was running, frantically, as if seeking escape, his coat lathered and . . . there were faint white marks on his haunches and flanks, like those made by a whip.

_Oh, gods! They beat him. Damn them! No wonder he won't let anyone get near him . . . or on his back._ Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He knew just how it felt to be helpless and have someone beating on you, that had been his life as a small child and apprentice to Smithy Carl. It had been four years since then, but he had not forgotten.

_Poor boy! No wonder you're so wild. You're not a demon, you're just afraid._

"Are you just gonna stand there, Gold? Or are you gonna do something?" Ray challenged.

The horse slid to a stop and stamped the ground, whinnying angrily.

Jack opened his eyes. He knew that an abused horse would not trust easily. It would take time to gain the stallion's trust, and normally Jack would have never approached the horse when it was in such a state. But a deal was a deal, and he had to hope that the big bay understood he meant him no harm.

Slowly, he walked towards the stallion, keeping his movements slow and purposeful and his head low, not looking the horse in the eye.

The stallion tossed his fine boned head and snorted, watching Jack out of the corner of his eye.

He shied away as the boy neared, pacing about in a circle.

Jack came to the center of the pen and stood still, watching the horse as it pirouetted and trotted about him. He clicked softly at the animal, then he began to talk, keeping his voice low and soft. "It's all right, boy. I'm not here to hurt you, not like those other idiots did to you. No wonder you kicked them to the moon. I would too, if they whipped me. Kicked them right to hell."

The stallion's pacing slowed as he became curious about the small boy standing in the center of the pen.

Jack continued to talk, not looking at the horse directly. "Easy, boy. Easy. There's nothing to be scared of. Not from me. I want to be your friend. Like the knight who used to own you. Remember, boy?"

Jack knew that the destrier had once been a knight's companion, and had once trusted humans enough to be handled and ridden. Such a thing wasn't easily forgotten. Not even after being so brutally treated. Those who handled him since the horse trader had been extremely stupid, the boy thought in disgust. Or extremely afraid of the big animal. Jack was neither.

Though he knew perfectly well that one well-placed blow from a hoof could kill him, Jack refused to let himself think about that. If he was afraid, the horse would pick up on it. And a fearful horse would lash out at whatever he thought was a threat.

Right now the stallion was looking curiously at the boy, his big nostrils flaring slightly. Slowly he stopped pacing about and stood still, a few feet from where Jack was.

Jack kept his head down and remained still, as nonthreatening as possible.

"What's he doing?" asked one villager.

"How come he ain't going towards that big beast?"

"Would you, if you was him?"

"Aww, he's nothing but a –mfmfph!" Ray started to say, only to have Dirk's big hand clamp over his mouth.

"Shut up, you little snot! You made a bet, now let him do what he agreed to, without you shooting off your mouth!" the big mercenary growled.

Ray squirmed, but couldn't get free of the other's hold. He thought about trying to bite the merc, but didn't quite dare, for something told him Dirk wouldn't hesitate to haul off and smack him one. Steaming mad, Ray watched as Jack stood in the middle of the pen, for all the world like a stone statue.

Jack was counting off the minutes in his head, wondering how many he had left. He had agreed to a fifteen minute trial and those minutes were ticking off rapidly. But he knew he couldn't rush this part. The horse had to see him as a herd member, not a threat, not someone who screamed and slashed him with whips.

_Come on, boy. Trust me. Just a little._

The stallion's ears pricked and he took a soft step towards the odd thing standing in the pen with him.

Jack heard the hoofbeats behind him and his heart thrilled. _That's right. Come to me. Come and see._

Murmurs circled those watching as the big horse took one step after another, slowly creeping upon the small boy who stood with his back turned and his head lowered, not making any attempt to jump on the broad back.

The stallion extended his head, sniffing the air, tasting the scent of the boy before him. He whuffled, smelling no fear upon this puny thing. Slowly his ears came forward, swiveling from one side to another. But he sensed no danger.

Now Jack felt the horse's hot breath upon his left shoulder. He had to force himself to remain still and not turn around. This was always the hardest part.

The bay snorted, then brought his head down, snuffling at Jack's blond hair and shirt. The shirt smelled like fresh air and the boy's sweat, and the stallion found nothing frightening in either scent. Slowly, his nose touched the boy's shoulder.

A gasp came from those watching.

"Hello," Jack whispered. The horse's black muzzle tickled a little and he almost giggled aloud.

The destrier towered over the small boy, but the big horse just nuzzled Jack's shoulder.

Slowly, Jack inched his hand up and rested it on the horse's nose.

And the horse remained still, allowing the contact.

Jack didn't turn around, though he longed to hug the great head to his chest. He knew it was bit too soon for that. "Hey, big fellow. Let's go for a walk."

He began to walk lightly around the pen.

At first the stallion remained where he was. But then, as if led on an invisible string, he followed the boy, like a great dog.

Jack walked around and around, humming softly under his breath.

He knew the horse heard him, for the stallion whickered back and walked calmly behind the boy.

"How's he doing that?" whispered a child.

"Maybe it's magic."

"Naw, I seen a horse tamer in an eastern kingdom do that once," Dirk said quickly. "He's makin' the horse trust him, see, and when they do that, the best of 'em will follow you all over like a dog."

Belle had closed up the office for an hour to go and get some lunch over at the Goose, but when she got there, she found the place half empty. Even Mike wasn't behind the bar pouring drinks.

_Where is everyone?_ She wondered. She walked out and stood for a moment, looking up and down the street.

She spotted Missus Pearson, the widow of the late tailor, limping down the street, and called out to her, "Mistress, where is everyone on this fine day?"

The woman glanced over and said, "Y' mean y'haven't heard, Healer? They's over at the corral, watching young Jack ride that demon stallion of the baron's."

Belle froze, her breath coming in pants. "Jack? Ride that deadly horse?"

"Aye. It's a sight to see."

Belle was sure it was. And also sure she was going to have a heart attack right there. _Dearest gods!_ She began to run down the street.

Arriving at the corral, she pushed past several onlookers, crying, "Let me through! Is he mad? He can't do this! I'm his mother."

Recognizing her, people moved aside, leaving her with a path to the gate.

Belle fetched up against the wooden railing, her hands gripping the wood so tightly her fingers turned white. "Jack! Oh, great gods!"

Before her eyes was the skinny ten-year-old, walking calmly about the round pen with the horse who had almost trampled a seasoned groom trotting behind him. Her blue eyes widened. If she didn't know better, she would have thought Jack was using magic to control the horse. But she knew better. Jack, like half of Rumple's children, didn't possess the Gift.

"Amazing, ain't it, Mistress Belle?" asked Dirk, grinning at her. "Your boy's a real genuine horse tamer."

Belle nodded, her heart starting to calm as she realized that the big horse was not trying to savage her son. "Amazing, yes. And terrifying all at once."

She continued to watch.

Jack kept walking for another few minutes. He would have gone on like this for another hour, but he knew time was not on his side. His deal was to ride the stallion, not just be in the same corral with him. He halted, and the stallion stopped as well, his great head nuzzling the boy's chest, as if searching for treats.

Jack stroked the big nose. "I'll bet you're hungry, huh? Sorry I don't have an apple or some sugar for you."

He continued to pet the big animal, getting him used to his scent. _I wish I didn't have to do this. I know better. But maybe you won't kill me, huh? Maybe you can trust me just a little. Just long enough for me to sit on your back. You'll barely even feel me._

Jack turned until he was facing the big horse's side, his hands still stroking the black muzzle. His face barely came up to the destrier's shoulder. He brought his hands down the thick neck, scratching beneath the coarse flowing mane.

The horse whickered, enjoying the feel of the boy's fingers on his coat.

"Like that, don't you? You need a good brushing," Jack crooned. "If it were just us alone, I'd give you one. But . . . I can't. Not yet."

He reached the horse's withers, and let his hands be still, resting on the great shoulders. It occurred to him that he might need a mounting block. The stallion was much taller than Rogue.

The stallion whuffed at his hair.

"Okay, boy. I'm going to sit on you. Just for a few minutes. Don't panic and throw me off, all right?" Jack murmured. Then he vaulted up and across the horse's broad back.

Luckily Jack was strong from riding and swimming, for he was able to jump up onto the stallion's back without too much effort. In one quick motion, he swung his left leg over and sat up.

Jack put both hands deep into the stallion's mane as he sat up, prepared to have the horse go nuts beneath him. His thighs gripped the sleek hide, though the horse was so big it was an effort for him to do so.

A shudder went through the horse.

"Easy. It's just me. I'm light as feather," Jack whispered, praying the horse wouldn't start bucking.

The stallion turned his head, sniffing at Jack's foot. Truth be told, the boy sat so lightly that the horse hardly felt his slight weight. A sixty-five pound boy was nothing to a horse used to carrying a full-grown man in a full suit of armor with a lance.

Jack gazed into the horse's brown eyes for the first time. "See? I won't hurt you. Not ever."

The horse gazed back, then gave his head a toss and began to walk forward.

Jack nearly tensed up, but he forced himself to relax. The stallion was not trying to get him off his back. Not yet anyway. He leaned forward a bit, balancing himself more securely. "Good boy!" He clicked his tongue, the way he did when he rode Rogue or Flicker.

One black ear swiveled back, and the stallion whinnied and broke into a lope.

Jack found himself smiling. Riding this horse was a breeze. He turned and looked out at the people gathered near the fence and waved slightly. Ha! That would show Raynard. He sat back a little more deeply on the stallion, and gave the horse a silent cue with his left knee, a signal that most warhorses were trained to, and that he had learned from Orion, one of Alice's mercenaries.

The stallion snorted, holding his head high, and began to prance, his great legs lifting and striking out in a beautiful yet deadly dance. The maneuver was designed to smash a foot soldier into ribbons, though Jack didn't know that. He just thought it made the stallion look grand, like a horse on parade.

Nothing like the raging demon Ray proclaimed the horse was.

Jack patted the stallion's neck, feeling the great muscles bunch beneath him. Such power this animal had! Jack knew he'd never ridden a horse like this, and his heart thrilled as the horse continued moving beneath him. He gripped a bit tighter, signaling the destrier to trot.

As the bay broke into an effortless trot, with the small boy atop him, Belle found herself smiling in spite of herself. "He really is a natural, isn't he?" she said to Dirk.

"Yup, that's what I said."

The villagers began to grin and clap a little when Jack brought the prancing horse to an easy halt.

"Whoa," Jack whispered. Then he slid down the stallion's shoulder and landed on the ground.

He had done it! He had shown everyone, especially that upstart Raynard, that the demon horse could be ridden.

He walked back over to the gate, and only then did he see Belle standing next to Raynard and Dirk. He felt his heart sink to his shoes. _Uh oh. Now I'm in for it._ He turned and unlatched the gate, locking it behind him before looking at Ray and saying, "Still think I can't ride, high-born?"

Dirk removed his hand from Ray's mouth and stepped away, waiting to see what the boy said now. It was plain that Jack had won the bet.

Ray was stunned. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed that was the same horse that had been in his stable for the past few days. It was like looking at a different animal. And Jack had done what he could not . . . what he hadn't dared to.

Moistening his lips, Ray gulped hard. Everyone was watching. He knew that Jack had beaten him. But his pride refused to admit it. So instead of owning up to the fact, Ray snarled, "You must have used magic! No one could have tamed that horse in fifteen minutes."

Jack gasped. "You calling me a cheat, de Brabante? The horse wasn't ever wild, you just beat him when he wouldn't do what you wanted and made him mad. Don't you know anything? I might be a sorcerer's son, but I don't have magic. I never did. Ask anyone. Now, I think you owe me a horse and an apology."

Ray glanced around. Most of the villagers looked unfriendly. His face hot, he cried, "You can go to hell! Paul, take that horse back to the stable. Now!"

But his groom refused to move. "Master Raynard, the lad's right. I can't . . ."

"I order you to!" Ray screamed. "Now do as I say!"

"You trying to renege on your deal, prissy boy?" Jack demanded.

Ray shivered. He couldn't believe this hayseed farm boy had beaten him. "You used magic! I know you did!" he shouted. "The deal's off!" He made as if to push past the villagers and leave.

But something grabbed his ear and he yelped and came to a halt. "Hey! What—"

"Excuse me. But if you agreed to a deal, you must uphold your end of the bargain, young man," Belle said sternly. "It's a matter of honor."

Ray coughed and stared at the Healer, trying to free himself from her grip on his ear. "Oww! Lemme go, you witch!"

But Belle was used to grabbing recalcitrant youngsters and didn't loosen her grip one bit. In fact, she shook him slightly and said, "You've been causing an awful lot of trouble around here, boy. I think we need to speak with your father. Now, march!" She hauled the whimpering Ray forward, then said with the tone of command she had used back as a princess of Avonlea, "Bring the horse, Jack! Quick now!"

Jack, no fool, jumped to at her command. He went back and attached the lead given to him by Paul to the horse's halter and led the stallion after Belle, biting back a grin as she hauled the protesting boy along the road to the de Brabante lands.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Merrin de Brabante was approaching his thirty-fourth year, a tall man, with reddish brown hair cut to his shoulders, with a small goatee, and the build of a former soldier. When his valet announced that Lady Belle Gold, formerly of the royal House of Avonlea, was on his doorstep with his son, Merrin thought he had heard wrong. He had thought all of House Avonlea put to the sword by the invading troll army.

But when Belle appeared in his foyer with his son in tow, Merrin realized he was very much mistaken. He bowed, his eyes taking in the former princess, who was still a beauty, despite her ordinary green dress and her married status. "Well met, Lady Belle. I . . . was not aware you . . . were alive."

Belle blinked, startled, for she knew this man. Had known him quite well, in fact. "Why, Merrin! I wasn't aware you gained a title. It's been a long time since we danced at Avonlea's spring ball, hasn't it?"

Merrin blushed slightly. "Around eighteen years years, I think. I was seventeen."

"And I was sixteen. But you were Merrin Lithinglass then, a knight's son."

"That's right. My father had not been made Baron de Brabante by King Jason yet," Merrin recalled. "And you were not yet betrothed to Sir Gaston."

"No. In fact, I almost wished I'd been betrothed to you, with the way things turned out there," Belle said.

"You know this—this _woman_, Father?" Ray squawked. "She's the wife of that hedge witch, Rumplestiltskin."

Merrin frowned. "Mind your manners, son. Before she was his wife, she was a princess of Avonlea. Of royal lineage, and if I hadn't come to an arrangement with your mother, I might have married her."

Ray looked like he was about to fall over.

"But that was long ago, Merrin. In another life," Belle sighed.

"Yes. And I have been happily married to Chantel these past years," Merrin nodded. "She's been delayed coming here with us. Her mother is ailing, you see. But what brings you here, Belle?"

"Rather more than a neighborly visit, I'm afraid," Belle began.

"Wait. Before you tell me, let's retire to my study and have some wine and cakes," Merrin said. "Ray, help Simon bring in some wine."

"Yes, Father," Ray said, and accompanied the valet down to the cellar.

"Had I known you lived in the castle just beyond my woods, I would have dropped by sooner. You must think me terribly ill-mannered, but the truth is, I've hardly had time to breathe trying to settle things here before Chantel arrives. And then Ray cozened me into buying that crazy stallion . . . I don't know what I was thinking . . ." Merrin settled in his red leather chair behind his desk after handing Belle into a soft cushioned settle beside it.

"Actually, it was that horse I've come here to discuss," Belle began. "You see, it seems that your son made a deal with my son Jack . . ."

Ray returned bearing a tray with two glasses and a bottle of fine red wine. As part of his training as a noble, he was used to playing his father's page. He set the tray upon the desk and poured the wine. He was about to leave, hoping to get away before his father discovered what he had done, but it was too late.

"Where do you think you're going, Raynard William?" Merrin snapped.

Ray went pale. "Uh . . . Father . . . you see . . ."

"Explain yourself, boy! Is it true you made a deal with Lady Belle's son and tried to get out of it?" Merrin demanded angrily.

"But it was unfair, Father! Her son's a magician!" Ray protested.

"Jack is not," Belle retorted. "Not all of Rum's children have magic, and he has none. He's simply gifted with horses . . . of all kinds."

"Of course she'd say that, Father! She's his mother."

"Are you calling me a liar, young man?" Belle snapped.

"Apologize at once, Raynard!" his father cried. "You don't call a princess a liar!"

Ray muttered a quick sorry, then yelped as his father gave him a smack on the bottom as well.

"_That's_ for trying to wriggle out of a deal you made."

"But Father!"

"Don't you "but Father" me, you young scamp! I can't believe what I've been hearing. You've behaved abominably towards Belle's son, and certainly not how I brought you up. When you make an agreement, you keep your word. A nobleman's word is his honor . . ." Merrin scolded. "Belle, forgive me. I had no idea he was running about putting on airs like this . . . it won't happen again. I'll bring the horse by tomorrow, as promised. A de Brabante always keeps his word."

Belle stood up. "I'm sorry I can't stay, Merrin, but I really must be going. I'll expect you at around eight tomorrow morning, shall I?"

"Yes, of course. And thank you for taking such excellent care of Jim. And for bringing this young rascal to my attention. I beg your pardon and I assure you he won't be bothering your sons again." He took her hand and kissed it.

"Thank you, my lord. Now, I must be going," Belle replied, then she withdrew, closing the study door behind her. If she wasn't mistaken, that was going to be one sorry little boy when Merrin got through with him.

She found Jack in the stables, petting the bay warhorse.

"Jack, let's go home. You can see this animal tomorrow."

"He's not really dangerous, Mom," Jack began, trying to plead his case.

"Yes, I can see that, but the fact is we need to discuss this with your father. Jack, you almost gave me a heart attack this afternoon. When I saw you up on his back I almost fainted . . ." Belle scolded, putting her arm around the boy and leading him down the drive.

"I didn't mean to. . . well, not really . . ."

"You can explain everything to your father when we get home," Belle said. "Though I don't know what he's going to think of all this."

Jack gulped hard. He knew exactly what Rumplestiltskin was going to think, and he knew he wasn't going to like it, not one bit.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"Is this how you keep your word to me, Jack?" Rumple demanded, after having heard the whole story from Belle and his son alternately. He was pacing back and forth in his study, his face a mask of disapproval.

Jack stood before his desk, his head hanging. He hated when his father was disappointed in him, it hurt worse than a smack, because he wanted to make Rumple proud of him. "No, sir. But I . . . I couldn't let that snot Ray think I was a coward. And . . . what they were doing to that horse was wrong, Papa! They whipped him . . . that's why he was half-crazy . . ."

Rumple paused in his pacing to turn and look at his son. "Jack, you know I don't condone the abuse of anything, animal or human, but you shouldn't have made a deal without speaking to me first. Or your mother. Much less risking your neck like that."

"I know. I just didn't think . . . again. I'm sorry."

"Sorry's all well and good, lad, but it doesn't take away the fact that you disobeyed me."

Jack flinched at the quiet disapproval in his father's voice. "Yes, sir. Are you going to make me give the horse back?"

"I should. But a deal's a deal. I also should spank the daylights out of you for risking your neck . . . but I think you deserve a much more . . . lasting punishment."

Jack swallowed hard. When Rumple got creative, it meant he would regret his behavior for a long time.

"So . . . you won't be riding that new horse of yours for a week. Instead you'll be inside, helping your sisters clean the house."

"You want me to be a _maid_?" Jack wailed.

"No, I want you to think before you act. And scrubbing the floor and polishing the furniture will give you plenty of time to think about what you should have done, as well as keeping you out of trouble."

"But Papa, I need to get the stallion used to me . . ."

"You can feed, groom, and muck out his stall every day. But no riding until next week. And if you give me a hard time, I'll make it two weeks. Clear?"

"Yes, Papa." Jack knew he was doomed. He would never live this down. But at least he got to keep the horse.

Then Rumple's hand flicked out, giving his son a whack on the behind. "Don't ever scare me like that again, lad."

Jack sniffled. "I won't. Or at least I'll try not to."

"Come here, you horse crazy fool," his father ordered, then he hugged Jack to him and mussed his hair. "I swear, you're going to make my hair gray before I'm forty, Jack. But I forgive you."

Jack hugged him back, knowing then he was the luckiest boy alive.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, Baron de Brabante and two of his grooms arrived with the bay stallion just after breakfast. The Baron dismounted just before the stable block, where Rumplestiltskin and Jack waited to greet him.

Merrin shook hands with both the sorcerer and his son, apologizing again for his son's bad behavior. "Raynard has always been . . . a bit impulsive and rash, I fear. But I'm trying to change that."

Rumple nodded. "I understand, since Jack has almost the same problem."

"I hear you're a centaur on a horse, young man," Merrin said to Jack.

"I can ride pretty well," Jack blushed. "I like horses. Always have."

Just then the stallion neighed and stretched out his head towards the boy.

"Papa?"

"Go ahead, lad. Show him his new home," Rumple said.

Jack stepped forward and took the lead from the groom. "Hey, boy. Remember me?"

The stallion whickered and nuzzled Jack's chest, making the boy step back briefly before getting petted on the muzzle. Then Jack clucked to him and turned to lead the stallion inside the barn.

"Well, I'll be damned!" Merrin whistled, as he watched Jack walk away with the stallion striding after him. "That horse fought me and my grooms almost the whole way here. And now he follows your boy about like a puppy. How does he do that? It's not magic, is it?"

"No, that's just Jack," Rumple said proudly. "Horses love him and he loves them."

Merrin cast a speculative glance at Rumple, then he said, "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all."

"You have eighteen kids, right? At least that's what Belle told me."

"That's right."

"How on earth do you manage them? I have enough trouble getting my son to mind, much less take on a whole horde of them. What's your secret, Gold?"

Rumple smiled slyly. "It's not such a secret, de Brabante. You just have to do three things. Love them, listen to them, and discipline them when they need it. That's all."

"That's your magic formula?"

"That's it. And on some days I still want to pull my hair out," the sorcerer admitted. "But it's all worth it."

Merrin laughed. "Yes, you're right. You'll have to come to tea sometime, Rumplestiltskin."

"Just Belle and me, or do you want to meet the whole family?"

"Bring them all by, it'll give my chef conniptions, but who cares? That's what neighbors are for, right?" Merrin chuckled.

"Indeed, Merrin. Just don't say I didn't warn you," Rumple winked.


	21. As the Spinning Wheel Turns

**21**

**As the Spinning Wheel Turns**

"Gods, it's hotter than Hades out here!" Rafe complained, wiping sweat from his brow as he came out the next morning to help Bae and Peter with the stock. Jack came also, even though he was under punishment, he couldn't wait to spend some time with his new horse, who was placed in a stall next to Fannie and Sunny, the two goats, who were also next to Flicker.

"Yeah, we need rain," Bae replied, tugging open the first two strings on his tunic. "Otherwise the corn crop and the wheat crop are going to wither."

"Can't your father do something to keep that from happening?" asked Rafe as he grabbed a bale of alfalfa and began to put it in the haynets for the horses to eat while they cleaned out the stalls.

"You mean tamper with the weather?" Bae asked, getting the milking stool and pail down from a hook and starting to milk the cow. "Papa says doing that will do more harm than good. He said the weather's nature's province, not magic's, and he'll leave well enough alone. So I hope it rains soon."

Jack was feeding his new horse some sugar, keeping the stallion happy while he raked out the old straw inside the stall. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"

"What are you going to name him?" Rafe queried.

Jack turned and said, "I was up all night thinking about that. I decided to call him Steadfast, because that's what a warhorse is. Steady for short."

"That's a good name, Jack," Bae said. "He seems to have calmed down since yesterday."

Yesterday morning, the stallion had been restless, pawing the straw in his stall and whinnying whenever Jack left him alone.

"Yeah. I think once he gets used to it, he'll like it here," Jack said, carefully putting down new bedding.

There came a squawking and fluttering from the chicken coop outside, and then Peter came in carrying the morning's basket of eggs, shaking his left hand, which was red and bleeding. "Stupid Annabelle! One of these days I'm going to wring her neck and we'll eat chicken soup for lunch."

"She bite you again?" asked Rafe, lowering his pitchfork.

"When _doesn't _she peck me, the ornery wretch?" his brother complained, holding a scrap of cloth to the wound.

"If she wasn't the best layer we have, I think Mom would have made her into stew by now," Rafe said. "If that's bleeding a lot, let Mom see it."

"It's stopping. She can see it after I finish milking the goats," Peter said, examining his hand again. "Dumb clucks!"

"Yup, they're stupid, all right. Almost as stupid as sheep," Jack snickered, filling Steady's box with oats. As the bay horse ate, Jack grabbed a currycomb and cloth from the grooming rack and began to brush the horse down.

"Here. Bring this inside to Ivy and I'll milk the goats," Bae said. "You let Mom look at your hand before it becomes infected." He gave Peter his full pail of milk, then went to see to the goats, who tried to nibble on his sleeves before he gently smacked their noses and gave them handfuls of corn instead.

Peter took the milk and eggs inside, letting Rafe, Bae, and Jack finish the chores in the barn.

They came inside about five minutes later to find breakfast on the table. Peter sat with a white bandage about his hand, sipping some tea, while Ivy, Elaina, and Aurora set out platters of fried eggs, bacon, ham, potatoes, and blueberry pancakes. The family ate about three dozen eggs a morning, four pounds of bacon, three of ham, mountains of potatoes, and three dozen or more pancakes with syrup and butter, or just butter and cinnamon, which was how Nora ate them. There were also three pots of coffee and four pitchers of milk. Sometimes Ivy made two gallons of oatmeal and forty pieces of toast instead of potatoes and pancakes, or three dozen biscuits. Sometimes she had sausage instead of bacon and every Sunday she made fluffy omelets with peppers, onions, and cheese, along with fresh fruit and yogurt.

Phillip stared dolefully as Nick grabbed the last two slices of bacon before it even got to him. He wondered why the youngest son always got stuck getting everything last. But Bae saw it and took two of his four strips of bacon off his plate and told Finn to give it to Phillip.

"Thanks!" Phil said. Now he had two strips of bacon, one pancake, and an egg. Belle put a banana next to his plate, and then handed out fruit to the rest of the children, they each got either an apple, a banana, an orange, or a plum, all of which grew in the orchard. Rum had magicked the trees so they produced almost all year round, and so the family never ran out of fruit to eat.

It was the little kids' job to gather the fruit from the orchard, they did it twice a week, and left the wooden pails stacked neatly near the toolshed. Sometimes the fruit on the top of the trees was ripe before fruit on the bottom, but it didn't matter, because all you had to do was to tap the tree you wanted to pick and say, "Let me have it," and the fruit would fall into the basket. Rum had made it so that they would never have to climb the trees to get fruit, and so avoid any nasty accidents.

Of course, Nick had climbed an apple tree his first week at the castle and fallen out of it and dislocated his left shoulder, requiring both Rumple and Belle to pop it back in place. He'd remained with his shoulder in a sling for a week and been forced to drink nasty potions to help with the pain and heal the muscles quickly. That was the last time any of the little kids had tried to climb a fruit tree.

Rumple whispered to Ivy that she had new helper for a week, and Ivy handed Jack an apron and a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush after breakfast. "You can scrub the foyer first. That's where I always begin."

Jack exhaled and tied the apron around his waist. Then he took the bucket and the brush and began to scrub the flagstones. He had done almost half the floor when Nick spotted him and started giggling and calling to Nora and Clary, "Hey, girls! Look, we've got a new sister. Her name's Jacqueline."

"What are you talking about, Nick?" asked his twin, coming to see.

Clary followed. "Where?" she called, looking about. Then she rolled her eyes and gave Nick her patented "you're an idiot" look, and said, "That ain't a new sister, it's just Jack. Jack, why're you washing the floor?"

Jack heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Because."

"Because he's in trouble, right, _Jacqueline_?" Nick hooted.

Jack glared at his little brother. "Scat, Nick! Before you end up getting a bath early."

But Nick was determined to be a pest this morning, and followed five feet behind Jack, whistling a song about beauty queens, making Jack long to shove his head in the bucket of water.

"Nick . . . Mom's watching," Nora warned, but as usual, her mischievous twin didn't heed her warning in time.

Belle reached out and snagged Nick by the collar. "Quit teasing your brother," she ordered. "It seems a certain little boy forgot to clean his room this morning."

"Huh? But Mom!" Nick whined, trying to get free of her grip. "It's not that bad."

"It looks like a pigsty," Belle refuted. "Now march up there, young man, and clean it. You have an hour."

"Aww! Come _on_, Mom!" Nick complained, going all sulky.

"Nicholas," Belle said, with a note of warning in her voice that all of her children knew very well.

"You're a prison warden, Mom!" her son cried, stamping up the stairs.

"Quit giving your mother a hard time, lad," Rumple ordered as he made his way down.

Nick shot him a rebellious look. "You're _both_ prison wardens!"

"Yes, now go to your cell, and don't make me repeat it," Belle snapped. She heard the door slam. "That boy! Sometimes he makes me want to—"

"—lock him up and throw away the key?" suggested her husband.

"More like paddle his ass so he can't sit down for a day," Rafe said, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe you let him sass you like that, Mom."

Belle looked up at her oldest son. "Rafe, you don't even want to go there. How many times did you sass me at that age, hmm?"

"Uh . . ." Rafe stammered, his ears turning red.

Elaina, who was polishing the banister, glanced at him speculatively. "Were you a brat too as a kid, Rafe?"

"Actually he—" Belle began, smirking.

"Mom! Don't answer that," Rafe cried.

"He was horrendous," Rennie reported gleefully, as she was carrying a basket of dirty clothes down to the laundry room.

"Ren! Shut up!"

"Once he tracked mud all over Mom's clean floor and when she told him to wipe it, he said, "Why? I'm just going to get it dirty all over again." I thought Mom was going to kill him."

"Hey, I was seven," Rafe protested.

"Another time he put a grass snake in Mom's rain boots," his older sister said.

"I nearly ran screaming down the street," Belle admitted.

"Got my ass whacked good for that," Rafe sighed. Then he glared at Rennie. "But you weren't the perfect daughter either, Serenity. We won't mention the time you almost blew the house down trying to light a fire without opening the chimney floo first. Or the time you baked a cake and Mom offered it to one of her patients and they almost chipped a tooth on it."

"Her teeth were rotten anyway, and it was the first time I'd baked anything on my own," retorted Rennie. "You still can't boil water, Rafe."

Elaina was laughing. "Gods! You're too funny!"

Rafe scowled over at her. "Don't tell me you were a good child, Elaina Gold."

"He's got you there, dearie," Rumple said, chuckling. "She used to throw fits over washing dishes, Rafe. Said it would ruin her hands or something. Not to mention the time she had a tantrum over a hair barrette and threw a shoe at my head."

"Thanks, Papa! Like I wanted him to know _that_," Elaina groused.

"You threw a _shoe_ at him?" Rafe repeated. "Mom would have walloped my behind good for that."

"He did," Jack put in.

"Stuff it, Jack!" Elaina growled. Then she looked ruefully at her boyfriend and said, "Guess we were all little monsters once upon a time."

"You can say that again," Rennie snorted. "I don't know how Rafe survived until he was nine, and stopped driving Mom insane."

"I think she's still a bit looney," Rafe said, snickering.

"Raphael, would you like to scrub the fireplace?" Belle asked sweetly.

"No, ma'am. I'm going out to hunt up some rabbits now," Rafe said quickly, and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen door, nearly running over Bae in his haste.

"Where's the fire?" Bae asked.

"They're bringing up the "when we were little kid days" again," Rafe said.

"Oh, gods. I'm leaving too. Before anyone brings up me and that damn hat again," Bae swore.

"What hat?"

"You don't want to know. Trust me," Bae said, and followed him out the door.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

A week later, the Golds received an invitation to afternoon tea at the de Brabante residence, as Merrin decided it was time he met the rest of the family. So Rumple and Belle packed the children into the wagon they normally used to carry potions in, and had Rogue pull it, with Rum riding Flicker and Jack riding Steady alongside. All except Bae and Aurora, who were sick with sore throats and fevers and had to stay home.

Belle had left them reluctantly with tonics for fevers and a sore throat syrup to be taken every four hours. "And Ivy made chicken soup, it's keeping warm on the stove if you get hungry," she told them.

"We'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry," Aurora said. "We're big enough to take our own medicine."

"I'm probably going to sleep most of the afternoon," Bae said hoarsely, his voice was almost gone.

"We'll be back in three hours," Belle told them. "Sooner if Merrin's chef faints and he has to get rid of us."

The two convalescents went to bed and slept for part of the afternoon.

Then Aurora woke, her throat sore and scratchy, and went down to the kitchen to get some more of Belle's sore throat syrup. Puss was meowing, so she fed the cat some pieces of cheese and turkey left over from lunch. As she was petting the cat and swallowing the syrup, Bae padded into the kitchen as well.

"You look like something Puss dragged up from the cellar," he coughed.

Aurora's hair was falling in her eyes and her face was pale with two red spots on her cheeks. She was wearing a pink robe over a long frilly nightshirt. "You don't look so great yourself, Baelfire."

Bae rubbed his chin, which had some stubble on it from not shaving this morning, and his hair was sticking up like a crow's nest. He was dressed in an old shirt and trousers, and was flushed from the fever that came and went. "I feel like crap," he said, and got some water from a pitcher and drank it. He took one of the bottles labeled Fever Remedy and uncorked it and drank it down. "Gods, this stuff tastes like old boots. Ugh! I'll get well just so I don't have to taste this anymore."

"Me too," Aurora said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Healers probably do that on purpose. So nobody wants to get sick," Bae said. "You hungry?"

"A little," Aurora answered, setting the now empty syrup bottle on the counter.

Bae went and ladled some soup into two bowls and sliced some bread, which had a soft texture and was warm from being under one of Ivy's warming cloths. "Honey or butter?"

"Both," Aurora yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Same here," He put honey and butter on two slices of bread and then brought that to the table, going back for the soup. "The coffee's cold, do you mind?"

"No. I drink coffee however," his sister replied.

"Right now so do I," her brother said, then poured two cups of coffee into mugs and added some sugar and milk to it.

They sat and ate in companionable silence.

Until there came a knock at the doors.

Aurora, who had been half-dozing over her chicken soup, looked up in alarm. "Oh, no! I can't receive a visitor like this, Bae! I look like a harridan."

"Maybe you'll scare 'em off," Bae grinned. "Just kidding. I'll get it."

He returned momentarily with Archie in tow. The fourteen-year-old looked rather scruffy, as he always did when he was trying to do everything his con artist parents insisted on when he wasn't busing tables at the tavern.

"Bae!" Aurora gasped.

"Bae said you were both sick with sore throats and fevers," Archie said sympathetically. "Sorry to hear that, Rory."

"Hopefully I'll be better soon," Aurora said, wanting to crawl under the table.

"Is Healer Belle at home?" Archie asked. "My mother has one of her sick headaches and she wanted one of your mom's tonics for it."

"You mean, her cure-alls don't work?" Aurora asked, then she flushed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's the truth," Archie admitted. "That stuff my parents sell never works like they say. Mostly because it's sugar water and rum or something like that, not real medicine. I found that out the hard way once. I had a cold and drank a bottle and I was drunk for a whole day."

"What did your mother say?" Bae asked, chuckling.

"She wasn't home and I never told her." Archie shook his head. "I've told them I don't want to be like them, hoodwinking honest people, but it's like talking to the wind."

"Maybe when you grow up, you can do something different," Aurora suggested, hiding another yawn.

"Does the medicine make you sleepy?" Archie wanted to know.

"No, not really. This is my old problem. Narcolepsy, as Mom says," Aurora answered.

"Oh. Sleeping sickness. Have you ever tried hypnotism?" Archie suggested.

"Hypnotism?" Bae repeated. "What's that?"

"It's a new study that some professors at the Enchanted College are doing. It's not magic, but it's sort of like it. You put yourself in a trance-like state and someone tells you to do things, like not be sleepy anymore, and you obey."

"Sounds like a compulsion spell," Aurora said.

"No, it's not magic. And I thought of it because maybe you could try it."

Aurora looked thoughtful. "Well . . . I suppose. Can't hurt, right? I really need to stay awake, because every time I try and spin a new gown for the Summer Festival, I fall asleep."

"We can't have that. You're the only one who can challenge that snippy Arachne Miller for first place in the spinning contest," Archie reminded her.

Aurora made a face. Arachne was the daughter of Rufus Miller, the local miller, and she and Aurora had been enemies since both of them first attended a spinning class with old Granny Weaver. Arachne was very competitive, and she had insisted she was the better spinner, and had won the award for Best Spun Thread and Best Dress three years running at the Summer Festival. Aurora was just as good, if not better, but her narcolepsy made her unfit for competition, since the contest lasted all day, and Aurora inevitably fell asleep past noon.

"Archie, you know I can't," Aurora groaned. "I have trouble staying awake right when I get up and drink five cups of coffee in the morning."

"Yes, you can. I wrote to those professors and they sent me a course. I can hypnotize you so you don't sleep. Please, Rory? You have to try again. I'm so sick of Arachne's bragging."

"Isn't she sort of . . . sweet on you too, Archie?" Bae wanted to know.

Archie blushed. "Uh . . . yeah. Since third grade she's sworn I'm her soul mate and we're gonna get married one day."

"Ugh! Gross!" Aurora snorted.

"Tell me about it. I've spent that long running _away_ from her," Archie sighed. "Every year she asks me to dance with her at the Festival and I have to make up an excuse and leave."

"That's horrible," Bae said. "Why don't you just tell her you don't have feelings for her like that?"

"I did tell her. Once. And she told me I didn't know my own mind and I'd fall in love with her when it was time. I don't know what else to do."

"Go with someone else to the dance," said Bae. "Then maybe she'll get the message."

"If you hit her over the head with a shuttle," Aurora said. "She's _that_ dense." She looked hopefully at Archie. "Do you really think it'll work?"

"Hey, all I can do is try it."

"When can we do it?"

"How about after you're over this sickness? The Summer Festival is three weeks away, so we have plenty of time to try it."

"And I have time to have Papa teach me some new tricks on his wheel," Aurora said. "As well as finish the new dress I'm designing."

"I'm sure it'll blow away Arachne's," Archie said supportively. "She always uses almost the same design every year and the only reason it wins is because the other girls don't know how to design an original anything. She's a copycat. But with your designs . . . you'll win, Rory."

"That's nice of you to think so, Archie," Aurora smiled. "You're sweet."

Archie went red.

"You want to take her to the dance?" Bae queried, quirking his mouth up in a sly grin.

"Umm . . . err . . ." Archie stammered.

"Bae! Stop teasing him! He obviously doesn't want to dance with a girl whose greatest talent is falling asleep," Aurora said irritably.

"That's not your greatest talent, Rory," Bae argued. "You can spin like a master."

"_Only_ when I'm awake," she answered.

"I think that hypnotism is your best bet," Archie said quickly.

"Well, we'll try it. You want to stay and wait for my mother? They went over to the de Brabantes for tea."

"Sure."

"If you're hungry, help yourself to some soup," Bae added, for he knew fourteen-year-olds always were starving. "I just hope you don't get sick from being near us."

Archie shrugged. "I'm healthy as a horse. I'll be all right." He rose to get some soup.

When he came back to the table, he found Aurora dozing. He blinked. "Is she . . ."

"Yeah, she's out like lantern," Bae assured him. "Between one blink and the next, she's asleep. So . . . you like her, don't you?"

Archie flushed. "It's that obvious?"

"Only to someone who's in love. Like I am with Rennie," Bae answered.

Archie ate several spoonfuls of soup before answering. "I . . . err . . . always liked Rory. She's not some . . . some . . ."

"Some maneater out to get you?" Bae supplied.

"Right! Only she's . . . you know . . . royal . . . while I'm just the son of . . . common thieves . . . or whatever you want to call my parents. I'd have to ask your father . . . and he'll probably turn me into a squirrel or something . . ."

"Not unless you hurt her," Bae chuckled. "Papa's not like that. He saved you from Regina, right?"

"Yeah, he sure did." Archie nodded.

"He also doesn't judge based on background. He judges a person on how he acts. So it doesn't matter that you're common as grass and she was once a princess. What's important is that you love her . . . and she loves you."

Archie gulped. "Do you think she might . . . like me, Bae? Just a little?"

"I'd say so. After all, she's let you see her with her hair like a bird's nest. Usually, that's a privilege reserved only for brothers and fathers. Take a chance, Archie. Otherwise you might find yourself tied to that bitch Arachne if you're not careful."

"Oh, no! I'd leave town first . . . or pretend I'm nuts and have amnesia!" Archie babbled, horrified.

"Then next time you see my sister, bring her some flowers."

"F-flowers?"

"Pink and yellow ones first. You work your way up to red roses," Bae advised.

"Okay. I'll . . . do that." He ate some more soup. "How come . . . you're helping me? I thought . . . I thought you'd run me out of here with the flat of your sword."

"Because I like you, idiot. If I thought you weren't worthy of my sister, you'd be getting a couple whacks with my sword, believe me. But I think you'll make each other happy."

"I hope so. I mean . . . umm . . . well, you know what I mean," Archie finished.

Bae clapped him on the shoulder. "Look, I have to go lie down. You stay here and wait for my parents and the rest of them to come home if you want. You can keep Rory company."

Archie looked at the sleeping Aurora. "Won't she get a crick in her neck like that?"

"Never has that I've seen." Bae yawned. "I'll see you later."

"Get well soon, Bae," Archie called as the older teen made his way back upstairs. He glanced again at Aurora, who was snoozing away, and pulled a book out of his pocket. It was called _Ways to Build up Self-Confidence_ and it was written by those same professors he'd ordered the hypnosis kit from. He began to read, and soon the turning of pages accompanied Aurora's light snoring.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Over at the de Brabante residence, there was organized chaos in the kitchen, as the chef and his three helpers attempted to prepare a lunch for Merrin, Ray, and their eighteen house guests. Had Ivy known, she would have happily gone in to help, but she was in the role of visitor now, and currently sitting in a plump horsehair stuffed chair in Merrin's solar, next to Clary and Nora.

Merrin had set out a variety of nuts, dried fruit, and sharp cheese with crackers for them to start with. Ray and Merrin's valet, Simon, were serving the adults glasses of white wine, and the children sparkling apple cider.

Everyone was on their best behavior.

Merrin had impressed upon his son the importance of behaving like a gentleman. "That means you're polite to everyone, even those you can't stand. I don't care what problems you seem to have with Jack Gold, you put that aside now that he's a guest in this house. Understand? Because if you start anything with him, Raynard, you'll be polishing everything in the armory for a week and no sword lessons from me."

Merrin wished he knew of a way to adjust the boy's attitude towards people without becoming too strict. He supposed that since his son had been born to rank and privilege that he saw the world differently than someone like Merrin, who'd been a mere knight's son for much of his life, until King Jason had ennobled his father, Arthur. Merrin hadn't lived a life of privilege, or at least not much of one, because in those days a knight was merely a soldier who could afford a horse and armor, and a lot of them could barely do that. Those that weren't from a noble House just made do, and a knight's fee wasn't much when you had a family to support. Merrin had grown up in an average house with two servants, a groom and a cook, and that was all. His father had been away much of the time, and left Merrin, his mother, and two sisters alone. Merrin's playmates had been the local children, sons of merchants and a few retired guardsmen, and he'd never lost his liking for such folk, even as a lord of his own estates.

Perhaps, Merrin thought, he'd coddled the boy too much. He would start making his son do more about the stone house they now occupied, and maybe some honest work would help rid Ray of that insufferable attitude of his. He also wondered why his son couldn't be friends with Jack, who had the same sorts of interests. The Gold boy had an intrinsic sense of honor that Merrin wished would rub off on Ray. Perhaps if they spent time together, it would.

So, before the lunch was served, which Simon had discreetly informed Merrin would be delayed to a minor mishap in the kitchen, Merrin allowed Ray to take Jack and anyone else who wished to go with them out to the stables.

"My prize mare, Archangel, just had her first foal. I haven't named the filly yet, so perhaps you could help me?" the baron asked.

"Yes, I could, sir!" Jasmine was practically jumping up and down.

"And me!" added June shyly.

"Me too!" Clary said.

"Clary, you can't name a horse," Nick groaned. "You'll name it something dumb,  
like you do your dolls."

"Can too!" Clary put her hands on her hips and glared at Nick.

That made the adults chuckle, and Merrin said, "Why, she's almost as stubborn as you, Belle."

Belle slanted him a glance and said, "Look who's talking, old friend. Only a man as stubborn as you could have put up with Chantel D'arcy's father all those years ago, and all those crazy conditions he set for you in order to court his daughter. Bringing him the head of a lion or whatever it was and the skin of a leopard."

"Actually it was the head of a wolf and the skin of a panther," Merrin corrected. "And at least that was something I could do, instead of moaning about the fact that my ancestors weren't blue bloods like hers. Besides, as your husband no doubt knows, faint heart never won a fair lady."

Rumple chuckled. "True enough, Merrin. But it wasn't winning her that was hard, it was convincing her to stay."

"Because of Gaston?" asked Merrin knowingly.

"He casts a long shadow," Belle acknowledged. "Or did once. But not anymore. Rum has banished him quite effectively from my life."

"Good. You don't need that blackguard haunting you," Merrin said. "If I had been there when that scandal happened, he'd have gotten a good kick in the pants from me. And maybe a duel too."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to waste your time, Merrin. But thank you anyway," Belle said.

While the adults reminisced, Raynard led most of the children out to the stables, where his father's mare, bred for racing and riding, Archangel, was with her newborn filly. The filly was a beautiful golden color, with a silky silver mane and tail, the opposite of her mother, who was silver, with a creamy gold mane and tail.

Jack whistled in appreciation when he saw them. "Wow! That's some mare! And her filly's adorable too."

"Her coloring's very rare. It's why Father called her Archangel," Ray told them. He went to stroke the mare, who had her head over the stall. "How're you doing, girl? All right?"

The mare snuffled him gently, then whickered.

Ray turned back to the Gold children. "She wants some treats."

"Can I give her an apple?" asked Jack, he always had one or two in his pocket, or carrots for the horses.

Ray stepped back. "Go ahead. Angel's gentle, she won't nip."

As Jack fed the mare an apple, Clary stood on tiptoe and tried to see over the stall door. "I wanna see the baby horse."

"It's called a foal," Ray told her.

Jasmine picked her up and showed her. "See, Clary? There she is, the little gold horse."

"Aww! She's bee-you-ti-ful!"

Jasmine laughed. "She sure is. Like a fiery sunset." She gave a short whicker, and Archangel turned her head and whinnied back to her.

"What'd you say to her?" asked Jack.

"I asked if she minded if we pet the filly," Jasmine said. "She said no. Look."

The mare was gently nudging the filly with her nose, pushing the youngster to her feet. The filly whinnied and began to walk towards the stall door, her little whisk broom tail going around.

Ray had Paul unlatch the stall door, which had a rope partition across it as well, and as he swung the door wide, Jasmine, Nora, and Clary gathered in front of it.

The filly came to a halt just before the rope, looking curiously at the girls.

Jasmine extended her hand, and whinnied in horse language.

The filly bobbed her head, then sneezed. She put her small muzzle in Jasmine's hand.

"See, Clary? She's curious," Jasmine said softly.

Clary came and gently put her hand on the filly's neck. "Hi, pretty horsie."

The filly sniffed the little girl, and Clary giggled as the horse's nose tickled her.

"Okay, let Nora pet her now," Jasmine ordered.

Nora came and stroked the filly gently, and also Archangel, who blew at her.

Then Jack, Ivy, Finn, Kristen, and Ariel had a turn.

Ray watched, then said to Jasmine, "How'd you learn to talk to horses like that?"

"It's magic," the petite girl replied. "I'm a nature witch. I can talk to all animals and make plants grow."

"My old nurse would have said that's the devil's work," Ray remarked, looking at Jasmine a little uneasily.

"That's because she was superstitious," Finn said. "People that don't understand the magic born always say things like that."

"But . . . it is kind of . . . odd," Ray said.

"To you, maybe. To me, it's as natural as breathing," Jasmine told him. "I've always loved animals and being able to talk with them is wonderful."

"Can you ride?"

"Of course!" Jasmine laughed. "I had my first pony when I was Clary's age. And later, my caliph father bought me a tiger for a pet. His name was Rajah."

Ray gaped at her. "You have a _tiger_ for a pet?"

"Well, I did, back when I was still a princess, before the evil snow witch killed all my family. She turned them all into ice statues. And Rajah . . . well, I couldn't find him . . . he must have run off . . . he was very tame, you could ride him and he liked to sleep at the foot of my bed."

"A tiger!" Ray repeated. "That's crazy! What if it bit someone?"

"Rajah wasn't wild. Unless someone hurt me," Jasmine said. "My father wanted a companion for me that could protect me and Rajah did. I just wish I knew what happened to him."

"He probably went back to the jungle," Peter said.

"There was no jungle near my palace, only desert," Jasmine sighed. Her missing tiger had bothered her for a long time, but since there was nothing she could do about it now, she rarely spoke of it.

"What are we going to name the filly?" asked Ariel.

"How about what your sister said?" Ray mused. "Golden Sunset."

"Fiery Sunset," Jasmine corrected.

"Yeah, that," Ray said.

"You could call her Sunny for short," Jack said.

The others agreed that was good name for the filly.

"Let's tell my father," Ray said.

"But first we tell her mom," Jasmine reminded, then she gave a few brief whinnies.

Archangel snorted and whinnied back, a long clarion call.

"Did she like it?" asked Peter.

Jasmine nodded. "She said it was a fine name, and thanked us."

The groom closed the stall door and the kids trooped back up to the stone house, excited to share their news with their parents.

Before Jack could go inside, Ray caught him by the shoulder and said quietly, "Wait, Gold. There's something I need to tell you."

"What?" Jack asked warily.

Ray bit his lip. "I . . . was wrong about you. You didn't cheat that day."

"I know. Did your papa make you apologize to me?"

"Well . . . he said for me to behave . . ."

"So did mine," Jack admitted. "He also taught me to keep any deal I made."

"That it's a matter of honor," Ray said. "Only I got so mad I forgot. I won't do that again."

Jack nodded. "Not if you want to sit down."

Ray flushed. "How'd you know?"

"It's what mine would have done to me if I acted like you," Jack replied. Then he said, "How about we start over, de Brabante? You quit acting like you're so high-and-mighty and I'll forget about the deal you broke with me."

Ray considered for a few moments. The fact was, he was lonely here by himself, only he hadn't realized that fact until he'd tried and failed to mingle with the village boys. " I . . . umm . . . okay, Gold. Can I come over and see Demon?"

"His name's Steadfast now," Jack said. "I call him Steady."

"Can I?"

"All right. If your father says you can."

"I'll ask him later. You're all right, Gold . . . for a country boy."

"Jack. And you're okay . . . for a noble's brat."

"Call me Ray. It's only Raynard if I'm in trouble," he offered, then he held the door for Jack to go through, as was proper with a guest.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Belle, Rumple, and the rest of the kids arrived back at the Dark Castle, they found Archie waiting for them, and Aurora sleeping at the table.

"Hello, Archie!" Belle greeted. "What brings you by? Are you sick too?"

"No, Healer Belle. But my mother is. One of her headaches."

"Ah. I have some feverfew tea bottled that I can give you," Belle said knowingly. She gently felt Aurora's forehead. It was cool. "Rory, love, why don't you go upstairs and sleep there?"

Aurora stirred, then blinked her eyes. "Mom? You're home already?"

"Yes. Now go sleep in your bed. Before you get stiff," Belle ordered.

As Aurora obeyed, Belle said to Archie, "Wait right here. I need to go and fetch the bottle from my stillroom." The stillroom was the place where Belle brewed up medicines, tisanes, and teas for her patients. It was kept locked, but the key was around her neck.

She returned soon with the bottle, and handed it to Archie.

"Uh, how much do I owe you?" he asked, fumbling in his belt pouch.

"Nothing," Belle replied.

"Oh, but I couldn't . . ."

She closed his hand over the bottle. "Go home, Archie. If she needs more, tell her to see me on Wednesday."

"Thanks! I'll do that!" he called, waving as he raced out the door.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Two days later, both Aurora and Bae were recovered from their sickness. Aurora had been thinking nonstop about Archie's hypnosis cure. She was starting to hope it might work, even for a short time. So she decided to ask Rumplestiltskin about showing her a few shortcuts on his wheel. She found him bottling up some potions in his lab that afternoon.

"Are you busy, Rum? I . . . mean, Papa?"

Rumple looked up. "You don't have to call me that if you're uncomfortable with it, Aurora."

"No . . . I think it's time I did," Aurora said. "I've been without a father for too long. And you love my mother, even I can see it, half-asleep though I am." She smiled tentatively at him. "Are you busy? I can come back later."

"No, dearie. I'm almost finished here. Would you like to help me bottle the rest? These are potions to help allergies, which are very common now that summer is here," Rumple told her.

Aurora assisted him, pouring the potions into the small bottles using a tiny ladle and a funnel. Soon they were all bottled and packed in straw stuffed crates, ready to sell at the market.

Rumple cleaned up with a brief wave of his hand, then wiped his hands on a rag before turning to Aurora and saying, "Now, what did you want to see me about, dearie?"

"It's about spinning. Mom told me once that you were a master spinner before you became a sorcerer."

"Yes, that's true."

"I . . . I was wondering if you could show me how you spin your thread so tight? I've looked at some of the tapestries here in the castle, Ivy said you spun a lot of them. I have this design for a dress for the Summer Festival, you see . . . I'd like it to be purple, only . . . purple dye runs . . ."

"Yes, if you make the dye with flowers," Rum agreed. "But I spoke with Ariel when we were at the seashore, while I was stuck in bed. She told me that her people make purple dye with mussel and oyster shells. Then the dye won't run."

"Oh! That makes sense," Aurora cried. "They're surrounded by water, of course they'd know about that."

"You'll need to get some crushed shells and soak them to bring the color out," Rumple said. "But it could work. Now, as for my technique, let me show you on my wheel."

Aurora followed him eagerly upstairs. He kept his spinning wheel in front of the hearth in the den. "Is it magic?" she queried.

"No. The magic's here," he wriggled his fingers. "Not the wheel itself, though it is very well crafted. And older than I am. It was my grandmother's," Rum said. He picked up a length of plain woolen fibers and began to spin it. "Watch, dearie. The secret to a fine yarn is spin slowly yet precisely . . ."

Aurora watched in awe as he spun with grace and deftness, his hands feeding the raw fibers onto the wheel and managing the treadles so quickly she could hardly follow. She was good, she acknowledged, but nothing like this. "Umm . . . could you slow down a bit?"

"Yes. Sorry, it's been a long time since I had a student," he apologized and slowed the motions down. "Do you see what I'm doing, dearie? Keep the tension here and here, so the bands tighten, yet the bobbin at the end rotates . . ."

Aurora felt the fine yarn wound around the bobbin. "It's so soft! And even as fairy wings. I could never spin so fine."

"Oh, you can. You just need to practice on her, dearie. Once you get a feel for her, you'll find your spinning easy as one, two, three." Rumple stopped the wheel, then beckoned for Aurora to sit. "Come and try her out, Rory."

Aurora sat down eagerly. Then she started the wheel spinning in a clockwise motion. At first her yarn was a bit wobbly, but she soon discovered Rumple was correct, as she used the wheel, the more she grew comfortable with it. Soon she was spinning almost as tight as yarn as Rumple. "Oh! It is easy!"

"I told you. Now, here's a trick to make your yarn soft like silk, but strong. . . You twist the fibers like so . . ." Rumple demonstrated.

Belle came in and watched the two together. It delighted her that her quiet daughter and her husband had bonded over their favorite activity. "That's lovely, Rory."

"Mom, Papa taught me how to spin an extra fine strong yarn!" Aurora said excitedly. "I can use it for my new dress and hopefully win the design contest this festival."

"Good for you, Rory! Then will you be entering the spinning contest too?" asked Belle.

"Umm . . . if Archie helps me stay awake by hypnosis I will. Then maybe I can give that hoity-toity Arachne Miller a run for her money."

"Hypnosis?" queried Belle.

"It's some new thing that Archie says some professors at the Enchanted College learned. Maybe it'll work."

"Anything's worth a shot, Aurora," Belle said. "Is it magic?"

"No. Archie said it has to do with . . . umm . . . will and making your brain follow directions . . . I think."

"Mind over matter," Rumple nodded. "It's how I teach my magical students to concentrate."

"Yes! And I'm going to try it!" Aurora cried, then she yawned.

"When?" asked Belle.

"On Wednesday," her daughter answered, blinking. "Damn! I'm falling asleep again."

Rumple patted her leg. "Go and rest your eyes, dearie. The wheel will still be here when you want it."

"It will, won't it, Papa?" she asked, with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I'm going to take a nap."

As she slipped away upstairs, Rumple said to Belle, "Did you hear her? She called me Papa."

"I know. And Jack has started calling me Mom. It's all starting to come together, Rum. Like we'd hoped."

He clasped her hand in his. "I think sometimes it's easier for the little ones to accept me. They have fewer memories of their real parents to contend with."

Belle nodded. "Phillip doesn't even remember Gaston. And he's at the age when he longs for a father. Rafe and Rennie will come around, as will the twins."

"So will Tom and Jasmine. They remember their mothers fondly, unlike Bae, Ivy, and Jack. Elaina barely knew hers, and Clary was a baby when she was dumped on my doorstep. Finn remembers his, but very little, which is why he took to you so quickly. I think the rest will too, in time."

"There's no rush. I remember it took some of mine awhile before they started calling me Mom instead of Healer Belle."

"It was that way with me as well," Rum acknowledged.

"But at least they are starting to see each other as brothers and sisters," Belle said. "And Jack told me that he and young Ray de Brabante are going to try and be friends as well."

"Ah, good. Then I won't have to worry about a war starting in my backyard," her husband said in relief. "Come, let's have some tea, Belle."

"I'd love some," Belle said, and kissed her husband lightly on the cheek. She loved spending time with him, her intuitive sorcerer, who had brought passion back into her life, and cherished her for her mind as well as her beauty. And who didn't mind sharing her with the children. _Aunt Miranda was right. There was someone waiting for me all this time. And now that I've found him, we shall never be parted._

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

On Wednesday, Aurora made sure she was manning the potions booth bright and early, along with Finn and Ariel. That way Ivy got some time off to peruse books and Elaina, Bae, Rafe, and Rennie also.

"You tell us if you need a break, Rory," said Finn. "Then you can go have a nap in the wagon."

"I wish I didn't _need_ a nap," Aurora said crossly. "I wish I was like everyone else."

"Maybe you'll grow out of the sickness," Finn remarked.

Aurora sighed heavily. "I'm fifteen, Finn, and almost a woman. I don't have much more time to grow out of anything."

"Maybe someone will discover a cure for you," Ariel said.

"Maybe someone already has," Archie said, coming over to the booth. "Hello, Rory. Hello, Finn and Ari. How are you all this morning?"

"Good. And you, Archie?" asked Finn.

"Oh, I'm right as rain." He patted his pocket. "Rory, something came in the mail today."

"It came!" Aurora exclaimed.

"Uh huh. I just had time to take a peek before I came down to talk to you," Archie said happily.

"What's this thing that's made you two so happy all of a sudden?" Finn wanted to know.

"Archie's trying to help me with my narcolepsy," Aurora began. "He thinks—"

Suddenly there came a piercing yell from across the street.

"_A-a-archie! Yoo hoo! A-a-archie, sweetums!_"

Archie went paler than curdled milk. "Oh, gods! Here she comes!" He glanced frantically behind him, catching sight of a short girl with dark hair curled about her face, wearing a pretty pink and white striped dress with a parasol and white button down boots. "Hide me, please!"

"Quick, under here!" Aurora said, stepping back from the booth. She gestured for Archie to crawl beneath the booth and crouch down beneath the shelves.

"Isn't that Arachne Miller?" asked Finn.

"Gods help me, yes! And I don't want her seeing me," Archie whimpered.

"Shush, or she'll hear you," Ariel said.

Aurora moved to stand in front of Archie, her skirts practically brushing his nose. She pasted a fake smile on her face when she saw Arachne walking with her friends.

"Oh _A-a-archie_!" she yodeled, looking around. "Hey, Avonlea! Have you seen Archie around? I thought he was just here."

Finn winced at her shrill tone and was tempted to cover his ears. Ariel had her hands clamped over hers.

"No, I haven't seen him. Maybe you should check the Goose. He might have been called in to work," Aurora suggested slyly.

Arachne pouted. "But today's market day! Who works on market day?"

"People who need money," Finn said.

Arachne sniffed. "Well, that leaves _you_ out, Finn Gold. Everyone knows you have more than enough, with the way your father spins straw into gold."

"A castle costs money to run, Arachne," Finn pointed out. "And so does feeding your family."

Arachne eyed him up and down. "Well, minstrel, if your papa hadn't married a woman with ten children, he'd not be worrying right now, would he?"

"I never said my papa was worrying about money, Miller. Just that it takes more than you'd think to live in a castle," Finn objected.

Arachne tossed her head. "Well, if you're strapped for some, you can always play your flute on the street corner. Or have Aurora spin. Missus Pearson can always use the thread, even if it's not the finest."

"Rory spins better thread than you!" Ariel defended.

"What would you know about it, mermaid?" Arachne snorted. "Your people go about half-clothed. We'll see who spins better thread at the festival. Or aren't you entering again this year?" She looked pointedly at Aurora.

Aurora smiled at her sweetly. "Why, Arachne, didn't you know? I've already signed up."

Arachne began to laugh. It sounded like a hyena howling. "Did you! Oh, gods save me! You actually think you're going to last the day? Fall-Asleep Avonlea actually thinks she can be competition this year. That's too funny, right, girls?"

Her friends all nodded and sniggered.

"You'll see come the festival, Miller," Finn spoke up. "And maybe she'll make you eat your words, you petty little snip."

"Oh, don't make me laugh, musician! Aurora winning the contest is like the moon turning blue. It'll never happen!" Arachne sneered.

"You never know, Arachne. It could happen," Ariel said, giving the older girl a hard stare.

Arachne snorted and turned away. "Right, water girl! Not in a million years!" Then she began scanning the sidewalk again. "Oh, A-a-archie, love! Where'd you go, my little cupcake? We're supposed to go to lunch this afternoon . . ."

She bustled off, her girlfriends following her like pull toys.

"You'd make me lose my appetite," Archie moaned. "Is she gone?"

"Wait a minute or two," Aurora hissed. "Okay, come out."

Archie stood up, brushing dirt off himself.

Finn was pulling some cotton batting out of his ears. "What? She howls worse than a werewolf. She hurts my ears."

"Mine too," Ariel said. "She has a screech worse than a seagull."

That started Archie and Aurora laughing. They laughed so hard they almost fell into the shelves of potions.

"And she's an utter nincompoop too," Archie gasped. "She just doesn't realize it."

"Like she doesn't realize you can't stand to be with her," Aurora said.

Archie shuddered. "I'd rather be with a viper. At least I'd die quickly." He cleared his throat. "As I was saying, I have a plan to help Rory with her little problem."

"How?" asked Ariel.

"With a course in hypnotism," he declared proudly.

"What's that?" asked Finn, puzzled.

"I'll explain later," Archie said. "Come on, Rory. Let's find someplace quiet where we can do this. Before that . . . that man hunter comes back."

"Do you mind?" Aurora asked her brother and sister.

"No. Get lost, Rory," Finn grinned.

Aurora took Archie's hand and they ran behind the wagon and down the opposite side of the street.

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted this! Your support is so very welcome! Who likes the Archie/Aurora pairing? **


	22. Once Upon a Summer's Day

**22**

**Once Upon a Summer's Day**

Archie took Aurora to his house, which sat at the end of Weaver's Row. "Don't mind the mess," he said, faintly embarrassed as he led her into the small home. "My mom's never been what you'd call a good housekeeper."

The house was a typical one large room and a loft upstairs which was where Archie slept, among the bales and boxes of things his parents kept to sell to the unsuspecting public. Almost every month or so, they came up with a new get rich quick scheme that involved getting people to buy something shady, like Madam Malkin's Cure-All Tonic, or the Marvelous Magician's Hair Growth Solution—Guaranteed to Grow Out Bald Spots in Thirty Days! Half of their products were water and alcohol, or turpentine, or something other than what they proclaimed to be, and when they didn't work, Archie's parents made sure they were far away by then. His parents called it "the price of doing business". Archie called it fraud, but was helpless to prevent it.

The one good thing was that the Hoppers never sold anything much to the villagers of Valley Way, they were too smart to get their neighbors' backs up, so they always had a home base of operations, and had since Archie was eight and they had moved here. Before they lived out of the back of a wagon, like Gypsies, only Archie bet the Gypsies were more honest.

Archie swept a bunch of papers off the table in the kitchen, which was cold, as his mother had let the fire go out again in the cookstove. He took a box of patent medicines, guaranteed to cure gout, lumbago, heart disease, liver failure, and a host of other illnesses off of a chair so Aurora could sit down. He lit an oil lamp and set it in the middle of the table. "Sorry about the dust," he apologized again. This place probably looked like a hovel compared to the neatly scrubbed castle she lived in.

"It's all right," Aurora waved off his apology. "What do the professors say?"

Archie dragged a chair out from the table and took the precious packet from inside his vest pocket. He opened it and began to read quietly. "_Hypnosis is not magic, where the person bespelled has to obey the caster, without regard for self-will. Rather, hypnosis is a cerebral state of mind, where the person is in a relaxed and suggestive state of mind._ _When you are in a hypnotic trance, a part of you knows this, and can have control over impulses, emotions, and thoughts which otherwise you would not have. Above all, you and the mentalist performing hypnosis must have a sense of trust, you should never allow anyone to hypnotize you that you don't trust implicitly."_

Archie lowered the manual to stare directly at Aurora's eyes. "You _do_ trust me, right? I'd never hurt you or ask you to do something terrible."

She met his gaze steadily. "I know, Archie. You're one of the most honorable and conscientious people I know. That's why I'm willing to let you do this. Go on. What else does it say?"

"That you need to be in a comfortable position while I make suggestions. Is that chair all right, or do you want to sit on the couch? Maybe lie down on it?"

"No, here's fine. I can usually fall asleep wherever I am, so anyplace is relaxed for me."

"Okay. Ready. I want you to sit back and relax and take a deep breath. But don't go to sleep! Just listen. I want you to relax all your muscles, from your eyes down to your toes. Just let them go limp and feel your eyelids growing slightly heavy. Look at a point just above my head and know that you are safe and peaceful here. Nothing can harm you, and you are relaxing slowly but steadily. Now let your eyes shut and feel how the relaxing energy goes up your body like tingling sparks. Your arms go limp, your legs go numb and you are at peace, drifting on clouds. . ."

Here, Archie paused, wondering if Rory had gone into a trance or had simply fallen asleep again. But he couldn't hear her snoring, so he decided to continue.

"Imagine a set of stairs in your mind's eye. I'm going to count to ten as you walk down the stairs. Each time you take a step, you will fall into a relaxed trance. One. Two . Three. Four. Five. . . ." as Archie counted softly he prayed that Aurora was listening. "Ten. Now your body is asleep, but your mind is awake. Focus on my voice, Rory."

He paused to figure out how to phrase his suggestion. Then he said, "At the snap of my fingers, wake up and be refreshed and full of energy. Your narcolepsy is gone. Touch a spinning wheel and stay awake and relaxed."

He repeated the suggestions three times, three being the magic number.

"I'm bringing you out of the trance now. As I count to ten, walk back up the staircase in your mind. Feel your body tingling and waking. When I snap my fingers—wake, Rory!"

He slowly counted to ten aloud and then snapped his fingers.

At first, nothing happened.

He groaned, sure he had done the techniques incorrectly.

But then she stirred and woke, rubbing her eyes. "Archie?"

"Yeah, I'm right here. How do you feel?"

"I feel . . . awake and alive. How am I supposed to feel?"

"Do you feel sleepy?"

"No. Not at all. How strange!"

Archie grinned at her. "I think . . . it might have worked."

"Really? Let's see if I fall asleep in the next fifteen minutes," Aurora suggested.

Archie kept her talking, asking her about her new design for her dress for the festival. Aurora explained about the crushed purple mussel and oyster shells and how Rumplestiltskin had taught her a few tricks to make her yarn more sturdy and yet soft as silk.

"Then you like having him as your new father?"

Aurora nodded. "At first I wasn't sure, but . . . now I see that all those rumors about him being cold and evil were just that . . . rumors. My mom loves him to pieces and she's happier than I've ever seen her, Archie. She . . . seems to glow every time she's in the same room with him. And so does he."

"How about your sisters and brothers?"

"Well, Phil took to him right off, but then he's always wanted a father around. He's giving magic lessons to June and Kristen and Ariel and they all seem to trust him. They've all started calling him Papa, even Kris. Peter likes him too. Nora's still shy about him, but she always takes a while to warm up to people. And Nick . . . well, you know Nick swears he'll never need a father, but I know he does. Rennie likes him a lot and Rafe, well, I think Rafe's starting to. He just doesn't trust easily after what his papa did to Mom."

"Yeah, I know what that's like. If all I had to compare sorcerers to was Regina, I'd be spit scared of every one of 'em. But when Rumple saved me . . . well, I learned that there were good and bad ones. I guess that's true of everything, huh, Rory? Rory? Aww, drat! You fell asleep!"

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Aurora woke. "What happened?"

"Umm . . . you fell asleep. Till I snapped my fingers."

"Maybe it didn't work all the way. Maybe we should try again."

So they did the next day. And the one after that. And the next one. Archie tried different suggestions and wordings, until he managed to get Aurora to stay awake for over half a day, a record for her. He also got her to stay awake while she spun, which was something of a miracle right there.

Aurora began to hope that she could make it through the spinning contest, unlike all the previous years. She had designed a lovely spring-like gown, with a scalloped bodice and small darts in the waist, tapering down to a full tulle skirt that fell to the ankles. She trimmed the sleeves and bodice with small seed pearls and scallop shells that set off the gown's eye catching purple color, the deep even purple of a royal cape or robe, or a tropical sunset.

Both her parents agreed that the gown was very flattering.

"If that doesn't win, I'll eat a bar of soap, Rory," said Ivy, admiring it. "That's perfect to wear to the festival."

"And look, I made a hat to go with it," Elaina announced. She took a small hat with a plumed green and purple parrot feather and a somewhat large amethyst out from behind her back. It had a brim to shade you from the sun and a few lengths of a delicate silk veiling studded with minute chips of sparkling white quartz.

"Oh! Elaina, that's . . . perfect!" Rory squealed, then she jumped up and hugged her sister.

Elaina went red. "Aww, it's just a hat."

"Maybe you two should go into business together," remarked Bae. "Rory can do dresses and you could do hats, Elaina."

"Yeah. You could be the Two Sisters Gold or something like that," Tom said. He was sitting atop Puss, and had just come from hunting mice all over the cellar.

"When Arachne sees that she's going to be green with envy!" Finn predicted. "Green!"

"And I can't wait to see the look on her face," Belle said. "That girl has lorded it over everyone since the first time she won the contest. It's time you took her down a peg, Rory."

"Go, Mom! Rub her face in the dirt, Rory!" Nick clapped.

"And here's mud in her eye too!" Phillip added.

Belle gazed at her two sons. "Just what is this fascination you two have with mud?"

"It's a phase, Belle. They'll grow out of it," Rumple chuckled.

"Until then, you two will be getting a bath every night," their mother stated.

"But Ma! We're supposed to be dirty!" Nick pointed out. "It's in that book. You know—snips, snails, and puppy dog tails."

"There's no mention of coming into my house looking like a mud monster," Belle pointed out.

"But mud's good for your skin," Phillip protested. "I heard you tell Miss Arnold that."

"Only if you have a bee sting. I didn't mean for you to roll in it, Phillip."

"But boys are supposed to smell like dirt. It's like a law," Nick argued.

"Not in my house." Belle crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're not going to win this one, Nick," Rafe advised, smirking.

"How do you know?" asked his little brother.

"Been there and done that. So pick your battles, or else you'll end up smelling like crushed rose petals."

"Yuck!" the two little boys exclaimed.

Belle eyed her husband. "Aren't you going to help me out here, Rum?"

"What for, dearie? You're doing fine on your own," he replied.

"Men! You're all alike!" Belle muttered, before going into the kitchen to get herself a cup of coffee.

"Was it something I said?" Rumple wondered.

"Mom's been kind of crochety lately," Bae observed.

"Maybe Aunt Flo's come to stay," Rafe remarked.

"_Rafe_!" Rennie snapped.

"Oww!" Rafe rubbed his head, where his sister had rapped her knuckles on it. "What? It's true, all you girls get cross like grizzlies when . . ." he trailed off as he observed all three older girls glaring at him. " . . .umm . . . never mind. I'll shut up now."

"Wise decision," Bae said. "Before they nail your hide to a wall." But a part of him wondered . . . was Rafe right, or was this something else?

"Who's Aunt Flo?" asked Nora innocently.

"An old relative," replied Rennie smoothly. "You don't know her yet, sweetie."

"You mean, we actually _have_ relatives?" Nick queried. "Aunt Miranda died and I thought Mom was an only child. Do _you_ have brothers or sisters, Rum?"

"No. My parents had a short marriage due to the wars," Rum replied, his eyes twinkling. "Don't worry about it, Nick. You'll never meet her."

"Why? 'Cause she lives far away?"

"Exactly, lad," the sorcerer answered, biting the inside of his lip. "Come, let's have some cookies. Ivy made oatmeal raisin ones."

"Yay! Cookies!" Phillip cried. He made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Me first!" Nick hollered, chasing after him.

"Better hurry, Papa," Bae said. "Before those gluttons eat the whole plate."

"Then they'll be sorry," Rumple said with an evil grin. "Because they'll have the worst stomachache in history and I won't give them anything for it."

"That's cruel, Papa!" Elaina said.

"That's what you get for eating the entire plate of cookies," her father said, and limped after his two younger sons.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The day of the Summer Festival dawned cloudy, but soon the sun emerged and burned off the mist and clouds, revealing a sky as aquamarine as the ocean. The villagers were up at dawn setting up the booths for food and fun activities for adults and youngsters alike. There was a maypole with ribbons for the young ladies and men to dance around, a pit where they were roasting whole pigs, deer, and wild turkeys, a fortune teller's booth, various booths of hand crafts, a sword and armor stand, a booth where you could win small dolls and bouquets of roses if you could shoot three arrows into the center of a target, a horseshoe pit, and pens for livestock.

There were contests not only for spinning and dresses, but for the best sheepdog, the largest pig and bull, the biggest lettuce and strawberries, the best pie and jam contest, a wrestling bout, a horse race, and a dueling contest.

Jack looked at where some of the horses for the horse race were tied out and said longingly, "I wish I could ride Rogue in that. We'd destroy everybody."

"Now how would that be fair, dearie?" Rumple asked him. "You know Rogue's a magical horse. It'd be like you trying to light a candle quicker than me. No contest."

"Yeah, but still . . .Hey, isn't that Baron de Brabante's mare?" Jack asked, noticing a familiar silver and gold horse.

"Yes, that's my Archangel," Merrin said, coming up to them. "Well met, Rum and Jack. I've entered her in the race."

"Who's riding her?" asked Jack.

"I am," said Ray.

"Think you'll win? Hans' gelding Black River is pretty fast," Jack said.

"Angel can run like the wind when she wants to," Ray told him. "And she will today, 'cause she wants to get back to Sunny. We have her in the pen over there, with Rudy, our stable pony, for company." He pointed to a small corral where the filly trotted around a fat pony with a cream mane and tail. "Are you going to ride in it, Jack?"

"No. Steady's not really built for racing, and Rogue would dust all of you."

"How about Flicker?"

"Flicker's fast but . . . he'd be too nervous. Probably run away with me to the other side of the kingdom if he got scared. So I'll just watch this time."

"And wish you luck," added Rumple.

"Thanks, Master Gold. I think I'm going to need some," Ray said, for this would be his first competition with adults and not kids racing for fun.

"You'll do all right, boy, if you get Angel out in front from the start," Merrin said encouragingly.

Ray nodded. "Are you competing in anything, Jack?"

"Not me, but my sister Rory's in the spinning contest and the one for Best Dress this year. And Bae's in the dueling competition and Ivy's got a pie in the pie contest."

"I heard that Arachne Miller always wins that," Ray said.

"You mean she _used_ to always win it," Jack corrected. "But that's 'cause Rory never competed because she always fell asleep. But that's not gonna happen today."

"How come?"

"Archie figured out how to make her stay awake with hypnosis. And she's going to make Arachne look like two-bit butterfingered old maid," Jack told Ray.

"We'll be cheering on your sister and your brother too, Jack," said Merrin. "How good's your son with a sword, Rum?"

"He's very good. My best friend Jefferson, who used to be a lieutenant in a merc company, the Silver Swords, taught him how to use a sword, and so did Captain Alice of the Card Captors. He practices every day."

"Sounds like he'll give the current champion, Lucky Larry, a good match," Merrin said.

"Why's he called that, Father?"

"Because he won seven duels in one morning," Merrin replied. "He used to be a swordmaster at some fancy academy on the coast."

"And now he makes his living dueling at country fairs and betting on himself," Rumple said.

"Bae'll kick his backside," Jack said confidently. He half-worshipped his older brother and thought he was the best swordsman in the kingdom, even if he'd never fought with a company.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Over near the dueling arena, which was a roped off area filled with sand, Bae was talking to James Shepherd, who was his neighbor to the west of them, and his best friend. James, as his last name suggested, was a sheep herder, and had the best flock of woolies around. They were twice as hardy as regular sheep and gave beautiful thick creamy wool. Rumple paid him handsomely for bales of it come shearing time. James lived with his mother, Beatrice, and his dogs, Dusty and Rex, in a small cottage not too far from the pastures where his sheep grazed.

James was drinking a tankard of ale, and gesturing to where he had four of his sheep penned up. "I was going to enter Old Nan in the contest for the best wool, but I didn't because she won it for three years in a row and I figured it was time to let someone else have a turn," he said to Bae.

"But you're competing in the sheep dog trials, right?" Bae asked.

"Yup. Me and Dusty," he bent to pet his dog, who was a black and white collie with one ear that stood up.

"I heard Old Addy and her dog Ranger were going to be in it," Bae said.

"Ranger's a good dog, but he's getting old. I think Dusty's faster, and that'll count when they herd," James said calmly. "You all set to take on Lucky Larry?"

"Yes. If I make it that far," Bae replied.

"Jeff trained you. You'll make it that far," James encouraged.

Bae clinked his glass with James'. "Let's hope the gods of summer smile upon us, Jimmy boy."

"Hear! Hear! And if Ivy doesn't win that pie contest, I'll eat my hat," James grinned.

"Or Rory beat Arachne."

"I can't wait to see that!" James chortled. "Arachne's always boasted that no other spinner could hold a candle to her."

"She's never spun against my father. Or Rory when she's fully awake."

"That's gonna be some grudge match," whistled the young shepherd.

"And maybe Arachne's going to eat humble pie," Bae predicted. Then he drank some more of his ale.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle, Elaina, and Aurora were clustered over at the spinners' platform, where five wheels were set up for the contest. There were also five wooden dress forms where the gowns the girls had designed stood. They would be judged later on in the afternoon.

Aurora gazed up at the platform and bit her lip nervously. There stood Rum's wheel, dark with age but lovingly polished by her the night before. Next to it was Arachne's newer model, gleaming gold in the sun.

Elaina patted Aurora's arm comfortingly. "Don't worry, Rory. You've got this."

"I hope so," Aurora muttered.

"Papa taught you a lot of what he knows, and nobody could ever match his yarn, even before he could spin straw into gold," Elaina said confidently.

"But _he's_ not spinning against me, Gold. Sleeping Beauty here is!" Arachne shrilled, giggling as she came up to the platform with her group of girlfriends. "And we all know what she's good at!"

Elaina glared at them. "Keep laughing, Arachne. She who laughs last, laughs best."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out. Oh, and here's a handkerchief to dry your eyes," Elaina held out a square of cloth.

"I don't need that!" Arachne snapped.

"But you will, little spider. You will, or my name's not Elaina Gold," Elaina said, then she stuffed the cambric square down Ariadne's bodice. "Come on, Mom and Rory. Let's get ourselves a hot blueberry pastry and some cider."

"Don't forget some coffee!" Arachne tittered. "To keep you awake, Miss Nodding –Off!"

Gales of laughter accompanied that, making Aurora hunch her shoulders.

"Don't pay them any mind, Rory," Belle said. "They're jealous snips, is all. And look, here comes Archie!"

Aurora brightened when she saw the boy coming with his red vest and brown breeches, his green cap on his auburn curls. "Archie! There you are!"

"Hey, Rory! I overslept a bit, but here I am. Are you all ready to stick it to Arachne?"

"Yes. But don't forget to snap your fingers."

"I won't need to. Remember, all you need to do is touch the wheel to stay awake."

"Oh, right! Now let's get some blueberry pastries. Mistress Pelham just baked them."

"I can smell them from here," Archie sighed. He shook his money pouch. "Good thing I got tips last night."

"Put that money away, Archie," Belle ordered.

"What for, Healer Belle?"

"Because I want you to save that to go to university. I'll pay for your pastries. My treat," she said firmly.

Archie beamed. "Thanks, Mistress Gold! You really think I can get in?"

"You're one of the brightest lads I know. I'll recommend you myself," Belle smiled at him.

Archie sighed happily. It had long been a dream of his to go to college and learn things he'd only read about in books. He looked up at Aurora and smiled. He planned to ask her to the dance tonight. He hoped she would accept.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"Come one, come all, and test your skill!" barked Ned Sharpeyes, an old archer, formerly of King Jason's personal guard. "Three shots in the black wins you your choice!"

Clary, June, and Nora ran up to the archery booth, peering over the railing at the bouquets of roses and small dolls in handmade print dresses. "Ooh, lookit the pretty dollies!" Clary squealed.

"I wish I could shoot," June said longingly. "I'd get the one with the blue rose dress there and the blond hair."

"I'd get the one with the pink dress and red hair," Nora said wistfully.

"And I'd get a bouquet of roses for Elaina," Rafe said.

"Are you gonna try and win something, Rafe?" asked Nora.

"Sure, why not?" her brother said, removing his bow from his back.

"Shoot 'em up, Rafe!" Clary jumped up and down, clapping.

Ned looked at Rafe. "Think you can do it, lad?"

"We'll see," Rafe said. He set an arrow to his bow. "Stand back there, girls."

When the girls had moved back, Rafe stepped up to the mark and drew. He sighted down the arrow, his eyes narrowing until he saw only the target before him.

Then he loosed.

The arrow struck the target dead center.

"Good shot, Rafe!" Nora cheered.

"Do it again!" June grinned.

Rafe drew another arrow and shot.

Again it thunked home.

Ned whistled. "Looks like you've got the eye, boy. One more and you win."

Rafe drew again.

A third arrow popped into the target in a triangle next to the other two.

"A-a-nd we have a winner here, folks!" Ned called. "What do you want, lad?"

"The doll with the blue dress and blond hair," Rafe said. He took the doll and gave it to June. "Here, Junie. Now let me get one for Nora and Clary."

Ned handed him back his arrows. "You think you can get nine in a row?"

"I got three, didn't I?" Rafe said.

"You get ten in a row, boy, and I'll give you a bouquet for free," Ned bargained.

"You got a deal," Rafe said. He drew his bow again.

Three more times his arrows struck the center. Ned removed them and gave them back. Rafe shot again, and again, and again.

By then a small crowd had gathered. "What's going on here, Ned?" asked someone.

"I bet the lad here to see if he can shoot ten arrows into the bullseye. So far he's got nine."

"Do it, Rafe!" Peter cheered.

"Only one more!" Tom yelled, though no one except Peter heard him.

Rafe concentrated. His fingers were sore from releasing and drawing so rapidly, but he ignored the stinging pain. His world narrowed to himself and the target. He breathed in and out, one long slow breath. He could do this. It was just a wooden target and he'd brought down a running buck through the trees many times.

He pulled back the bowstring.

The crowd tensed, waiting.

Rafe released the arrow.

It soared through the air.

And hit the target with a thwack.

Dead center.

The crowd cheered wildly. His sisters all hugged him. Peter and Tom whooped.

Ned Sharpeyes bowed. "Here's your roses, Hawkeye. That's some mighty fine shooting, boy. What else you want?"

"The doll with the pink dress. And the one with the green one too," Rafe pointed to them.

Ned handed him the two dolls and the rose bouquet. "What's your name, boy?"

"Rafe Avonlea," Rafe replied.

"Ah. It's said your father was a great archer too."

Rafe stiffened. "I'm better than he is." The reminder of his father made his victory turn sour.

"Could be, boy," Ned nodded. "All right! Who's next! Three shots in the center wins!"

Rafe handed the dolls to Nora and Clary. "Here you go, girls. Come on, let's go get some chicken pies. All of a sudden I'm starving."

"Thanks, Rafe!" the girls chorused.

He picked up Clary. "Let's go eat while they're still hot."

"I'm hungry too, Rafe," Peter said. "And you were awesome!"

"The best shot in the village," Tom said.

"It wasn't hard, Tom. The target didn't move. It's much harder to shoot a deer," Rafe said modestly. He led the way to the booth selling hot chicken pies the size of his hand.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rafe arrived at the spinners' platform just in time to see Aurora go atop it, along with Arachne and three other girls. He tapped Elaina on the shoulder. "Here, pretty girl."

Elaina turned. "Oh, Rafe! How sweet! Red and pink roses!"

"He won 'em for you down at the archery booth," Peter said. "Got ten in a row."

Elaina kissed him lightly. "I always knew you had eagle eyes, Rafe." Then she turned back to where Aurora was sitting down at her wheel. "Go for it, Rory!"

Beside her, Belle and the little girls clapped and cheered.

Susanne Weaver stepped to the edge of the platform and said loudly, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, may the Weavers Guild give you the Summer Spinning Contest! There are two awards in this category—one for the Best Dress Design and the other for the girl who can spin the finest and strongest thread. Competing today are Annie Tanner, Melissa Ball, Kerri Merchant, Aurora Avonlea, and our defending champion, Arachne Miller. May the best spinner win! You have three hours, girls!"

Arachne looked sneeringly at Aurora. "You sure you can spin thread on that old thing? It looks like something you dragged down from the attic."

Aurora stiffened. "This is my papa's wheel, Arachne. And it's finer than your newfangled one."

"Prove it, sleepyhead!"

Aurora started spinning. "I will!" she said, and began feeding wool fibers onto the wheel as Rum had taught her. _I can do this. I can. I'll make Papa proud I'm his daughter. And I'll show Arachne who can spin the best thread._

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Down at the race track, Merrin gave Ray a leg up onto Archangel. "Good luck, boy! Just let Angel run her own race."

"I will, Father," Ray said, then he took the reins and nudged Angel forward to the starting line.

The mare snorted eagerly. She knew what she was supposed to do and she was eager to run.

Jack, Nick, Phillip, Jasmine, and Rumple watched from the sidelines, along with most of the men of the village.

There were six horses running besides Archangel, one of them the gelding Black River, owned by Hans, who had won the last two years.

The starter waved a long red flag on a pole.

When it came down, they were off!

Three horses broke from the pack, surging to the front. The race was a quarter of a mile, around the track twice. The horse in the lead was the black gelding, followed by a chestnut ridden by a boy named Ned Hart, and then Archangel and Ray.

"Take her on the outside, boy!" Merrin called. "Don't let them box you in!"

Jack watched as Ray crouched over Angel's neck, using his smaller size to give her an advantage over the bigger boys and men. The mare's head was extended as she galloped like a white flame over the ground.

"Come on, Angel!" he yelled. "Fly, girl! Fly!"

They were halfway down the track when the chestnut faltered and Angel swept past him. Now she was only a length behind Black River.

"Go! Go!" Nick shrilled.

"Run, Angel! Run like the wind!" Jasmine screamed.

The horses rounded the turn and the gelding and Angel were almost neck and neck, with neither slowing in the slightest.

"Let her go, Ray!" Merrin whooped. "Let her run!"

"Isn't he already doing that?" asked Rumple.

"No. He's holding her back a little," Merrin informed him.

"Maybe he's trying to save something for the finish," Jack said.

"But it's only a quarter of a mile, he doesn't have much time," Merrin sighed.

The horses came around and thundered by, their hooves shaking the ground.

Now a gray horse came out of the pack to challenge the leaders.

"Watch the gray, de Brabante!" Jack yelled. "On the right!"

Ray glanced under his arm and saw the gray horse trying to catch them. He slapped the reins and Angel surged forward.

The gray fell back, beaten.

Now it was just Archangel and Black River.

Neck and neck, the white and gold mare and the black gelding ran, practically nose to nose.

"Now, boy! Now!" Merrin yelled.

Ray leaned forward, seeming to whisper in Archangel's ear.

The gallant mare responded, taking two great strides forward.

To put her nose ahead of Black River and cross the finish line.

Rumple slapped Merrin on the back. "Brilliantly won, Merrin!"

"You did it!" Jack pumped his fist in the air.

"Angel wins!" Jasmine hooted, then she hugged Nick, who was clapping.

Ray jogged the mare into the winner's circle and accepted a crown of flowers draped about Angel's neck, as well as a silver cup and a purse of thirty gold pieces. He was grinning from ear to ear.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Bae and Rennie watched as James put Dusty through her paces at the sheepdog trials. Both of them were eating some basted beef on skewers and apple pies, and drinking some cider.

The collie was an excellent herder, responding swiftly to James' whistles and hand signals.

She rounded up the four sheep with precision and speed and drove them into the small pen in record time.

But Ranger was next to go, with Old Addy directing him. The big black shepherd was a wonderful sheepdog, but as James had observed, he was getting on in years. He knew his job well, but he was starting to slow down.

He obeyed all of Addy's signals promptly, but without the dash and verve displayed by Dusty.

When the times were compared, it was seen that Dusty had won by almost ten seconds.

James happily accepted the winner's blue rosette and a bag of beef bones for Dusty. He hugged the collie, who jumped up and licked his nose. He picked her up and made his way over to where Bae and Rennie stood.

"Way to go, Shepherd!" Bae clapped and then petted Dusty. "I knew you could do it."

"Dusty did it, actually," James said.

"She's a great dog," Rennie said, ruffling the collie's ears.

"And Addy asked if I'd breed her with Ranger," James said.

"They'd have great pups," Bae acknowledged.

"You'd get pick of the litter," his friend promised.

"We could use a good sheepdog," Rennie mused.

"That's real nice of you, Jimmy," Bae said.

"Well, what are friends for? I'll let you know when she has them." James said.

"Good. Now let's go and see how Aurora's doing," said Rennie, putting her arm about Bae.

James set Dusty down and walked alongside them. He was counted good-looking, with his tall build and dark hair, but so far had no serious girlfriend. Once he had thought about Rennie, but once he realized she had eyes only for Bae, he'd looked elsewhere. Only no girl had caught his eye as yet.

"You're the only girl for me right now, aren't you, Dusty?" he crooned to his dog, who panted happily at his heels.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Ivy set her fresh peach pie with extra crumb topping on the table next to the fifteen other kinds of pies and calmly walked away from it. That contest wouldn't be judged until after the spinning one was over. She glanced over at the table where the jams were set out, and saw Belle's pale pink jar of rosepetal jam set out along with those of blackberry, raspberry, strawberry and peach. She had convinced her mother to enter it in the contest as a rather last minute entry, since someone else had dropped out.

She had just turned about when she saw Finn approaching with Ariel. He was eating a spicy sausage and pepper sandwich and holding another in his hand. Ariel was eating a fried honey cake with one hand and the other was clutching the neck of a lovely rosewood mandolin with a sea green ribbon tied around the neck.

"Here you go, Ivy," Finn said, handing her the other sandwich.

"Thanks. Where'd you get that sweet mandolin, Ari?"

"Finn bought me it," she said excitedly.

"So she can accompany me when she sings. I'll teach her how to play it too," her minstrel brother said eagerly. "Besides, her birthday's coming up in a few days . . . or at least the date when she became human, anyhow. I figured we could celebrate early."

"That was sweet, Finn. I'll make you a cake," Ivy said, taking a bite of her sandwich. "You can tell me what kind while we watch Rory spin."

"I like strawberry shortcake with whipped cream," Ariel said, licking the honey off her fingers as they walked over to the spinning platform.

There they found the rest of the family, all of them gathered in a knot at one end, along with Bae's friend James, Archie, and Merrin and Ray de Brabante.

Everyone's eyes were focused on the spinners.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Aurora spun and spun, her motions quick, economical, and somehow graceful, though she knew she was not in Rumplestiltskin's class yet, despite him allowing her to borrow his wheel. She had been spinning for almost three hours now, and felt her eyelids start to grow heavy.

But each time she put her hand on the wheel, the feeling of sleepiness passed, and she was able to re-focus her mind and keep going. It was hard at first, but after doing it for so long, she found it grew easier to concentrate on the task she had set herself. She twisted the fibers of wool the way Rumple had shown her, making the thread even and tight. _Thanks, Archie. Thank you, Papa._

She didn't pay any attention to Arachne or the other girls as they spun, her focus was only on her own work. She knew that Susanne and several other members of the Weavers Guild were going around, judging the dress forms, including Old Liam Fergusson, who wove the best plaid this side of the Enchanted Forest.

Finally, Susanne called, "Time's up!"

The girls stopped spinning and waited, sitting alertly at their wheels.

Susanne came around and began measuring their yarn for texture, sturdiness, amount, and thickness.

After about five minutes, she straightened and said, "The winner of this year's Best Spun Thread and Best Original Dress Design goes to . . . Aurora Avonlea! Congratulations, Aurora!"

Everyone started screaming and cheering.

Aurora just sat there, until Susanne came and pulled her from the wheel to give her a bag of forty gold coins, a golden spindle, and a pair of spinning wheel earrings with purple and gold jewels in them.

"Rory! Rory! Rory!" her brothers were chanting.

She saw her mother and father standing close to the platform, beaming at her, and she basked in their approval. "I can't believe it. I won," she half-whispered.

Then Archie bounded up onto the platform, a somewhat wilted bouquet of pink and yellow roses in his hand. "For you, Rory! I knew you could do it!"

Laughing, she accepted the flowers. Then she hugged the astonished Archie. "You mean, _we_ did it!"

And shy Archie suddenly took her face in his hands and kissed her.

It was her finest hour.

Until a sharp tug on her hair wrenched her back to the cruel world.

The crowd gasped.

Aurora whirled. "Hey! What's the big idea, Arachne?"

Arachne stood behind her, glaring at her fit to kill. "Get away from him!" she spat.

"Archie doesn't belong to you!" Aurora cried angrily. "He belongs to whoever he chooses."

"He was always mine, you little tramp!"

"Girls, that's enough!" Susanne said, coming and gently tugging Arachne away.

The dark-haired girl turned upon her in a fury. "Leave off, you old hag! She's stealing my beau!"

"Honey, he was never your beau if that's how he's kissing Aurora," Susanne said firmly. "Now stop making a spectacle of yourself."

"This whole contest was fixed!" Arachne yelled. "Get out of my way, you harridan!" Furious at her loss in both the contest and her love life, Arachne started pushing over the spinning wheels on the platform, first her own, then the other girls'. But when she tried to go after Rumplestiltskin's wheel, she ran head first into the sorcerer himself, who had jumped onto the platform the moment Arachne had pulled Aurora's hair.

"There's no need to be rude, dearie," he began, his eyes glinting.

"Move, conjurer! You witched her wheel so she'd win!" Arachne spat.

Rumple stiffened. "I beg your pardon. I did no such thing, young lady. Aurora won on her own merit, with no help from me. Go and sit down. Simply because you're angry that you lost doesn't give you the right to go around smashing things and calling your opponents cheaters, like a spoiled brat in need of a sound spanking."

Arachne flushed. "You can't tell me what to do, sorcerer! You're not my father!"

"Obviously so, dearie, otherwise I'd be doing more than talking about that spanking, I'd be giving you one." He glowered at her.

"You tell her, Rum!" yelled Merrin.

Incensed, Arachne snarled, "You're not the boss of me, you hedge witch!" Her hand lashed out.

It would have connected with Rumple's face had he not grabbed the girl by the arm. "That really wasn't smart, dearie. Now pay the price for it."

There came a brilliant flash of purple light.

When the sparks cleared, Arachne was gone. In her place was a large gray spider.

Rumplestiltskin bent and took the spider onto his hand, where it waved and ran about frantically.

"What have you done, Rumplestiltskin!" bellowed Rufus Miller. "Where's my daughter?" He shoved through the murmuring crowd and onto the platform.

"She's perfectly safe, if a little confused, Rufus," Rumple answered. "Spiders spin too, only they do so quietly and without shrieking and throwing tantrums."

"Change her back, magician!" Rufus stared in horror at the spider.

"Oh, quit bellowing, Miller! She'll be back to her old spoiled self by tomorrow morning." Rumple handed him the spider.

"You mean, it's not permanent?" Rufus repeated, gently holding the arachnid.

Rumple rolled his eyes. "No. I wouldn't put the real spiders through that torment. Next time teach your girl how to lose gracefully. I don't take kindly to being slapped like that."

Rufus backed away, the spider clutched close. "No, sir. Sorry, sir. We'll . . . uh . . . be going now." He practically ran off the platform.

"Just what she deserved," half the crowd whispered.

"Ha! That'll teach the spoiled brat to meddle with the Dark One."

"She was lucky that wasn't me up there," Finn said darkly. "I'd have stepped on her, the bitch."

"Finn! Watch your mouth!" Belle scolded.

The boy sighed. "Sorry, Mom."

Rumple held out his hand to Aurora, who took it and hugged him.

"Oh, Papa! I'm so happy I could die!"

"Don't do that, dearie! Dying's overrated. I'm proud of you, Aurora. You did more than just beat Arachne. You conquered your own inner demons. And that, dearie, is the hardest won battle of all."

Then he escorted her from the platform, amid the applause and congratulations of the villagers.

And there was still more of the festival to come, and Aurora was determined to enjoy it to the fullest.

**A/N: Hope you all liked! I borrowed a little from Greek mythology here with Arachne. And James Shepherd should be someone you recognize from the show, you'll be seeing him again later.**

**If you would like the recipe for rosepetal jam (yes, it really does exist) just PM me.**

**Also, to answer a reviewer's question from last time-Regina is by no means finished with Rum or his family and neither are Hook and Milah, they're just biding their time, you'll see them return, but not for a good while yet. I'll do a few glimpses of them and someone else I've mentioned next chapter.**


	23. Midsummer's Eve

**23**

**Midsummer's Eve**

After Rumplestiltskin's transformation of Arachne into a real spider, some of the villagers walked softly indeed around the sorcerer and his family for the rest of the festival. Ivy supposed that was the way it was with magic wielders, some people never took them seriously, or were prejudiced against them, until they saw a sorceress or magician in action, and suddenly they respected them. Or feared them. Or both. Sometimes it seemed to her that there was no happy medium for the magic born. Unless you happened to be a member of her family.

After Rory had won the spinning contest, Belle had taken her off to Shoe House to change into the purple gown she had designed for the dancing. Elaina had gone with them to make some last minute adjustments on the hat she'd made, while Ivy had elected to stay behind and keep an eye on the pie and jam contest, which was being judged right then.

Ivy was already wearing her good dress for the festival, a white muslin with sprigs of curling ivy and tiny purple flowers on it, with dainty black slippers and a matching green ribbon in her long dark hair. She knew she didn't catch the eye like Elaina or was as sweet as Aurora, but she hoped that some boy at least would be brave enough to ask her to dance this evening. Sometimes she feared her outspokenness and brains kept most of the boys at bay, but she wasn't about to change to suit them.

"If they can't like you for what you are, then they aren't worth knowing," was something Rum had told her once when she was nine and had come home from school crying that all the girls hated her because she was smart. His saying then had comforted her even more than Finn threatening to make all their hair fall out, and it comforted her now. _I am my father's clever daughter, and I like it that way,_ she thought as she watched the judges taste testing the pies and jam.

She hoped Belle would win the best tasting jam contest. Rosepetal jam was delicious, and went well on everything, from crackers to bread to biscuits. It was light and sweet, and paired nicely with fresh butter. But it took an awful lot of rose petals to make, as Ivy knew well, having gathered most of them along with Belle. But it was well worth it.

Kristen tapped her on the shoulder and asked softly, "Are you nervous, Ivy? About winning the pie contest?"

"Maybe a little. But even if I don't win this year, it doesn't matter. Contests like this are really subjective, meaning they depend upon the judges' tastes and what if one of them doesn't like peach pie? But I really hope Mom wins. Rosepetal jam is hard to make and yet it tastes so good I want to eat the whole jar."

"Me too. And I like my red clover honey too," Kristen said. "I learned how to make that from my real mother, mostly for Baron, but also for the rest of the troupe too, once they tasted some."

Ivy smiled. "I find that the best things to eat are those made with love and care. Like Mistress Pelham's pastries. She taught me how to bake, you know."

"You mean, you weren't born knowing how to cook?"

"No! My witchery lends itself to cooking, but all cooks need to start somewhere. Papa couldn't cook much more than stew and oatmeal and toast and he's not bad with bacon either or scrambled eggs, but he can't bake to save his skin. One day I asked Annie Pelham to show me how to make strawberry tarts and she showed me and I was her unofficial apprentice from then until I was around twelve, when I came into my magic and could do things on my own."

"You're a great cook, Ivy! I wish I knew how to cook like you," Kristen said wistfully.

"Cooking, like magic, takes practice. You can help with dinner tomorrow and I'll show you a few things," Ivy said.

"Look!" Kristen pointed. "I think they're going to vote on the jams. There's the judge now with the ribbons."

Ivy nodded. "That's Martin Tavish. He used to run a fruit stand at the market until a blight took all his fruit trees. Now he sells tomatoes and jars of sauce and sundried ones."

The girls watched as Judge Tavish went and pinned ribbons on four jam jars.

Kristen let out a whoop when she saw that Belle's jam had won first prize. Second was Mistress Pelham's fig preserves, then two other ladies. "Mom won!"

"I thought she might. Nothing tastes so good on fresh bread as rosepetal jam and butter." Ivy was licking her lips.

It took a few more minutes for the judges to vote on the best pie.

And here was a surprise—there was tie.

"Ivy!" Kristen exclaimed. "You won!"

"And so did Mistress Pelham's strawberry rhubarb," Ivy said. "That was the first pie she taught me how to make, and her best seller in summer." She was happy for her old teacher. Annie Pelham was a kindhearted woman, who always saved her leftover bread and cakes and gave them to the poorer village children as treats.

"Look! Ivy won!" Kristen rushed back to tell the rest of the family.

"Ah ha! I knew it! I told Bae you'd win!" James said.

Ivy smiled at him. "You're just saying that because you want a piece, Jim!"

"Well, of course! Your pie is so good a man can live a week on it."

"Flatterer!"

"It's true. That time you sent over that pork and potato pie to us, my mom and I ate it all week. It was the best thing I'd ever eaten."

"You and your mom should come over sometime and meet my stepmother, Belle, and my new siblings," Ivy invited.

"But Ivy, you've already got twenty mouths to feed," James objected.

"So what's two more?" she asked.

"All right. I'll tell my mother about it." James agreed. "Now I'm going to head over to the arena. Bae's about to fight his first bout. Are you going to watch?"

"Of course! I'll always watch my brother, even if I don't really like sword fighting that much," Ivy said stoutly.

As she trailed after young Shepherd, she wondered why it was that she couldn't have feelings for a nice boy like him? He was Bae's good friend, and hers as well, and yet all she felt for him was affection like she did for Finn, Bae, and her other brothers. There was no spark like there was when her parents looked at each other, or Rennie and Bae, or Rafe and Elaina, or even Archie when he'd kissed Aurora today.

_Oh, well. Someday someone will come along. I hope. Unless I'm destined to be the maiden aunt._

She found a place next to James on the sidelines and prepared to watch her brother compete. In dueling, the champion was the last one to fight, and defend his title. His challenger, however, fought his way up through several bouts.

They'd already had some preliminary duels this morning, to determine who was better, so they didn't have a skilled swordsman easily defeating a non-skilled one. They wanted the contest to last, and to also be fun, and of course those less skilled would be eliminated swiftly, but having a really skilled duelist pound on a raw recruit was not fun to watch at all.

Oddly enough, half of the retired mercs, who were running the contest, were not competing, because of some old injury or another, or simply because they regarded this as a contest for those who were amateurs and not professionals. When an old soldier picked up a sword, it was to defend himself or his kingdom, and not for pleasure.

Some of the duelists were relatives of theirs, younger brothers, sons, and nephews. Others were not. Bae's first opponent was Dirk's son, Richard, who was two years younger, but almost as tall as Bae himself.

The swordsmen used wooden practice blades instead of real swords, just in case, but even a wooden blade could hurt if a blow landed hard enough. There was also no armor permitted, as this was solely a test of swordmanship.

Bae and Richard faced off, each eyeing the other to spot small mistakes in their stance and how they held their practice blades. Normally they were friendly with one another, but today they were opponents.

Bae waited patiently and let Richard make the first move. They exchanged blows, Bae taking Richard's measure in the first few strikes. The other boy was strong, but slower than Bae, and Bae kept him on the defensive for much of the duel, making him back slowly towards the ropes.

Twice Richard lunged at Bae's knees and once tried for a gut stab, but Bae seemed to know where he would be and blocked all the moves. Frustrated, the other boy sprang at Bae, trying to overwhelm him, but Bae stepped back, blocked once, twice, and then disarmed the other neatly.

"Match to Baelfire Gold!" announced Lefty Lewis.

"Good fight, Rich," Bae said, and shook hands with the other boy.

"I should have known to wait my chance, like Dad always says," the other said ruefully. "Good luck, Bae." He stepped out of the ring.

Then Bae faced the winner of the second pairing, a lanky boy with red hair.

This one too was defeated easily, Bae used a combination of thrusts and blocks taught to him by Alice, and before the red-haired boy knew what he was about, he found himself sitting on the ground.

"Match to Baelfire Gold!"

Five more times Bae fought, and though some of his opponents were good, none could match Bae's sheer quickness and precision. Jefferson had taught him to never waste his strength showing off, that one move was all you needed to beat an adversary, and that one move might take a few minutes to implement, but was better unrushed.

Alice had taught Bae how to use an opponent's strength and impatience against themselves, and make mistakes that would cost them dearly. Five times Bae waited for the other man to move, so he could see how his opponent reacted and thought. Alice called it seeing patterns, Jeff intuition, but whatever it was named, Bae had it in spades.

Finally, it came down to Bae and twenty-year-old Simon Tanner. The two fought for almost ten minutes before Bae saw an opening, and caught the taller lad by hooking a foot around his ankle.

Down Simon went, and before he could cover his throat, the tip of Bae's sword touched it.

"Winner!" declared Lefty Lewis. He looked at Bae. "You'll face the champion in an hour, Baelfire. Get yourself some water and something to eat if you want till then."

An hour was the grace period given the challenger, to make the contest more even, since the champion would only have to fight once, it gave his opponent time to rest up before the final bout.

Bae was panting, trickles of sweat dripping into his eyes. He climbed out of the arena, his sword tucked under his arm.

"Are you all right, son?" asked Rumple.

"Fine, Papa. Just a little tired."

"Here's some water," said Ivy, handing him a cup of it.

Bae sipped it slowly, knowing better than to gulp it after such strenuous exercise.

"And here's one of Mistress Pelham's rolls with some of my rosepetal jam," Belle said, handing him a roll spread with jam. "You need to replace some of the nutrients you've burned."

Bae took the roll and ate it, savoring the sweet taste. "Thanks, Mom."

Elaina handed him a cloth to wipe his face and the back of his neck.

"Do you think you can take that fancy duelist?" asked Rafe.

"Of course he can!" Jack put in stoutly.

"We'll see. I've heard Larry's good at this sort of thing," Bae said.

"Well, he makes his living at it," Peter said.

"But even the best swordsman can screw up," James said, also eating a roll with some of Belle's jam on it.

"I know. That's what Alice said. She said overconfidence is a merc's worst enemy," Bae nodded, chewing on the roll. "When I worked out with her, she could take me down like that," he snapped his fingers for emphasis. "Four moves and she had me."

"How, Bae?" asked Nick curiously.

"Footwork, little brother."

"But I thought you had to be strong to use a sword."

"That's only part of it. Like Uncle Jeff is always telling me, "Move! Move faster, before your enemy spots an opening and rips you apart." You have to use your brain too, Nick," Bae told him. "It's not all muscle. If it was, Alice could never be captain of her own company."

"He who fights smart, lives to fight another day," Rumple said. "That's another of Jeff's quotes."

"And you're the smartest fighter I know," Ivy said proudly. She handed him another cup of water.

Kristen brought him a piece of roasted chicken, and after that he held up a hand. "I'm good, don't give me anything else. Too much of a full belly makes you slow and clumsy."

"And sleepy," Aurora added.

"Uh huh. And I'm going to need to be wide awake to beat Larry."

"Smack him good and hard, Bae!" Clary said, climbing up on his lap.

"I'll give him one just for you, Clary-belle!" Bae promised. He hugged his small sister.

Clary threw her arms about him and kissed him on the cheek. "A kiss for luck."

"I'm very lucky," Bae assured her. "Because I've got you for my sister."

Clary beamed. "Papa, Bae says I'm lucky!"

"You are, dearie! You're my lucky little gold piece," Rum said, then picked her up out of Bae's lap. She snuggled on his shoulder, putting her thumb in her mouth, as she sometimes did when she was tired.

Belle ruffled her hair and said, "She's daddy's little girl for sure. Rennie was like that once with Gaston. Before he quit paying attention to his family and sought other pleasures."

"That was his loss," Rumple snorted. "There's nothing so satisfying as your family around you. Not even my magic." He patted Clary on the back.

Phillip came and leaned against Rum's good leg. "You're a better papa than my old one," he told the sorcerer seriously. "He never wanted us."

"He was an idiot!" Rafe snarled.

"Yes," Rum agreed. "He threw away the best things life has to offer—a good woman and children. But I won't." He rested a hand on Phillip's head. _That stupid ass! He hurt all of them so badly. But somehow I'll mend what he broke. _He had begun already, with Belle and Phillip. Eventually he would reach Rennie and Rafe as well. He would do something Gaston never had. He would show them that a real man didn't run off. He stayed.

Belle put her arm around him. "You never would. I knew that the first time I met you, Rum."

"That's because you're smarter than my mother will ever be," Ivy said, coming to stand next to her. "You actually see what's there, not what you want to see. Milah never did that."

"That's for damn sure!" Bae agreed. "We're better off without her."

"I wonder what happened to her after they sailed away?" Ariel mused.

"I hope they're holed up on some island somewhere, stricken with some tropical disease," Ivy said. "It would serve them right."

"If I had to wager a guess, I'd say they're in Regina's palace by now." Rumple said. "Birds of a feather and all that."

"They can have each other! Good riddance!" snorted Elaina.

"Let's not talk about them. They make my tummy hurt," June said, hugging her new doll.

"June's right," said Peter. "Let's talk about what Bae's going to do with the purse when he wins."

"If I win, Pete."

"You will," Jack said. "This guy's probably a has-been."

Bae laughed. "I doubt that, Jack. I need _some_ competition." He stood suddenly. "I need to warm up, before I get stiff."

He picked up the practice blade and began to do the preliminary forms Jefferson had taught him. He never neglected those basic forms, for they were the building blocks for every other sword maneuver. The basic forms taught footwork and use of wrists and hands, and helped a swordsman learn to use his blade like a willow switch. Or an extension of himself.

After ten minutes, Bae was reasonably sure his muscles wouldn't freeze and he glanced at the clock on the top of the meeting hall. It was almost time for the last duel.

Bae stared out at the empty arena, envisioning him facing off against his unknown adversary. He pictured the way he wanted the duel to go in his mind's eye, preparing himself mentally to face this former swordmaster.

Then he blinked and heard Dirk saying, "Bae, it's time. Give him hell, kid."

"You think so?"

Dirk nodded. "Been watching you fight. You're Mad Jeff's student. And anybody trained by a merc is worth ten of any fancy duelist."

"Mad Jeff?" asked Peter curiously.

"Yup. He got that name because he was crazy enough to take the company in against bad odds and come out alive . . . with most of his men." Dirk said. "Nobody can fight like Jeff. Excepting maybe Alice."

"Okay. I'm ready," Bae said, and climbed back into the arena.

Lucky Larry was a slender man, wiry rather than muscular. His practice sword was rather like a fencing saber. He eyed Bae and sniffed. "You ready, boy? I want this over quick."

Bae said nothing, simply moved into position. Larry looked like he had the speed and quickness, but Bae knew he outweighed the other man by a good twenty pounds. If he got close enough, he could make that count.

He counted off four heartbeats.

By the time he reached four, Larry was moving across the sand.

He was trying to end this fast, thinking to use his speed and reflexes to do so.

Bae blocked, using his wrists to move the sword in two forms, wasting as little energy as possible. He would let Larry expend himself, trying to draw him out.

Larry struck twice, three times, his lighter sword bouncing off Bae's, but each time his strike was met by a counter. "Come on, boy! You're not afraid, are you?" he taunted.

Bae remained silent. Alice had taught him the value of not answering an enemy's taunts. "Let him waste his breath . . . then you can make him waste his life."

An opponent who talked, she said, never saw the move that killed him, because he was distracted by his own voice.

"Get him, Bae!" Jack yelled.

"Stomp him into the dirt!" Nick shrilled.

"Yeah, kick his ass!" Rafe shouted.

Bae moved then, slipping to the side, moving like water flowing over rock. He spun, pivoting on his left heel, his sword meeting Larry's with a sudden snap.

The duelist was startled. "You've learned the Springing Tiger?"

In answer, Bae twirled his blade into another form, the Flying Weasel, batting the other's sword aside momentarily.

Larry gave ground grudgingly. "You're not bad, kid." He riposted.

Back and forth they went, with neither having the advantage.

Dirk and the rest of the mercs at the Goose were practically leaning on the ropes, yelling advice in hoarse voices.

Bae tuned them all out. He focused on two things, Larry and his sword.

Larry was sweating now, and Bae could tell he wasn't used to any country boy testing him like this. He was starting to tire, his breath whooshing from him in short pants.

And a tired enemy made mistakes.

Bae made the sword sing in his grasp, using quick sharp movements of his wrists to deflect Larry's thrusts. Then he lunged, making believe he was trying to stab the duelist in the chest, a classic maneuver.

Larry brought his sword around to block.

Only Bae's sword wasn't there.

Instead Bae twisted, and smacked the duelist hard in the side.

It would have been a mortal blow with a real sword.

Larry staggered, the point of his blade dipping towards the ground.

Bae pressed his advantage, hitting the other hard and fast, using his greater weight and strength to close and make Larry work to keep him off.

Larry was driven back, defending frantically. "No way, boy! No way!" he spat.

Bae brought his sword down and snapped it up in a movement called Parting the Silk.

Their blades tangled and Bae shoved Larry hard, knocking the older man down.

Bae's sword fetched up against Larry's ribs.

"Match point!" Dirk yelled. "Baelfire wins!"

Larry glared at him from the ground. "Impossible! I've never been beaten by a farm boy before!"

"There's always a first time," Dirk snorted. "And he ain't no farm boy. He's Lieutenant Hatter's best student. Well done, Bae!"

Bae looked back towards the corner where his family was. They practically comprised their own cheering section.

Jack was jumping up and down. "I told you! Bae rules! Yeah!"

Bae received his prize money, fifty gold pieces, but the best prize was Rennie's arms about him and her lips on his. Her kisses made this the best midsummer's eve ever.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle smiled up at her husband as they slowly twirled about the green. Despite the long day, she did not feel tired. Then again, she hardly ever did when she was in Rumplestiltskin's arms. The man could energize her with the merest caress of a finger. She would have said it was magic, and maybe it was, the magic of love.

As they spun, she looked around. There was Rory, still flushed from her unexpected victory, dancing awkwardly with Archie. Farther off waltzed Rennie and Bae, their hearts in their eyes. Next to them danced Rafe and Elaina, moving in a fast flamenco like step, Rafe spinning Elaina around by her hair.

Belle chuckled. Only her son could get away with that. He had Gaston's insolence, but none of his father's arrogance. It proved to be an irresistible combination for Elaina, who needed a partner who would put up with her prickly temper. But they were true to one another.

"What are you looking at, dearie? Something more interesting than me?" Rumple teased.

"Never. I was just looking at our children and marveling at how love changed their lives."

"Love has changed all our lives, Belle. Yours and mine especially."

"I love you, my dark sorcerer," she whispered.

"As I do you, my brilliant Healer. Now, forever, always."

She stepped close into the circle of his arms, fitting to him like a glove. This was what she had dreamed of all those lonely nights in her palace, knowing that her husband was betraying her with another woman. Someone who loved her alone, not for her position or her beauty, but for herself. How strange to have found her match in a country sorcerer a kingdom away, whose reputation was clouded by an old curse and a charge of cowardice.

Yet all of that faded when they were together. As Ivy had said, they saw each other truly, beyond rumor, beyond reputation, flaws and all. _After all, is that not what love truly is?_ she thought as she kissed him soundly. _I never knew it before, but I do now. And I will never let it go._

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Ivy sat on the outskirts of the green, her hands folded in her lap and her foot tapping slowly to the beat of the music. She watched the couples dancing, and was happy for her sisters and brothers, and glad that her father was truly happy with Belle, as he never had been with Milah. But she wished that some boy would brave the reputation of the clever sorcerer's daughter and ask her to dance.

Just once.

Was that too much to ask?

She moistened her lips and her eye caught a movement off to the right.

There was a boy standing there, at the edge of the green. Ivy's eyes narrowed. It was coming onto dusk, but she didn't think he was anyone she knew. Or was he?

Then he stepped into the light of the bobbing lanterns and she saw he was a bit taller than average, with thick silky dark hair over a lean handsome face, with the largest hazel eyes she'd ever seen. He was dressed in a simple green tunic and black trews, with boots etched in feathered patterns.

Ivy gazed at him, trying to place him in her mind.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible hand, he turned and looked at her.

His hazel eyes met her curious brown ones.

Ivy found herself smiling, just like some moonstruck maid in a romance.

He smiled back at her, revealing even white teeth.

Before Ivy could do anything, he was walking towards her, and somehow he managed to make it look like he was gliding over the ground.

He reached her and bowed, an old-fashioned courtly gesture. "Hello. What's a fair maid like you doing alone on midsummer's eve?"

"Umm . . . I . . . don't know," she stammered slightly.

He held out a hand. "Would you like to dance?"

"Yes, but . . . I don't even know you."

He grinned. "There's not much to know."

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"I've lived here all my life, just not . . . among the villagers," he said softly. "Or else I would have noticed you before."

"My name is Ivy Gold. I'm the daughter of—"

"Rumplestiltskin," he finished. "That doesn't bother me. Ivy. A hardy, sturdy plant that can withstand the fiercest storms, and has many uses. A fitting name for you."

"You know my father?"

"I know of him. Magic holds no fear for me."

She took his hand. Then she felt it, the familiar tingle of another of her kind. "Because you're a magician too, aren't you?"

"Yes, I have magic. Dance with me?"

Ivy hesitated. Then she chided herself. This was what she had wanted. A single dance. She rose and walked over to the green, her mysterious partner following.

As the band struck up a new tune, Ivy began to sway gently to the music. Her partner put a hand gently on her waist and began to move lightly to the tune. Ivy could tell at once that he was not unfamiliar with dancing. "You've done this before."

"What? Danced with a pretty girl? Sometimes. But never like this. Never one of my choosing."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind," he shook his head. Then he twirled her about, as graceful as a deer stepping through the forest, or a cat on the hunt.

"Who are you? A visiting noble?" she pressed.

He shrugged. "I told you, I've lived here all my life. You just never noticed."

"I'm not blind!" she snapped.

He laughed. "Indeed not. But I've been in hiding all my life."

"Why?"

"Many reasons. But none of them matter tonight. Let's just enjoy the evening."

Despite his maddening refusal to answer her questions, Ivy found herself enjoying the stranger's company. He was quiet, not talking endlessly about himself as some boys were wont to do, and he did not attempt to grope her, the way some might. Yet his hands made her quiver strangely.

They danced to three more songs, growing more relaxed as they did so.

"You have to tell me your name!" she giggled.

"Want three guesses, sorcerer's daughter?"

"I don't want to make a deal with you. All I want is an answer to my question."

"Sometimes the answer is right in front of you."

"You're so aggravating!" she scowled.

"So my father tells me. All the time."

"You sound like . . . you don't care for him."

He sighed. "He's a difficult man to care for. I don't always get along with him. But let's not speak of him now and ruin the evening. I am the hawk that soars above the ruins, watching. I am the voice in the trees that whispers your name. Do you know me now?"

She opened her mouth to reply when he stiffened.

"Ah, hells!"

"What is it?" she asked, looking towards the edge of the lawn. She saw a shadow there, and she gasped. "What's that?"

"Not what, who. Don't worry. He's not here for you, but me."

"Why?"

"Custom." He twirled her around once more. "Forgive me, but I have to go." Then he kissed her lightly. "Something to remember me by, Ivy. Farewell! Until we meet again."

Then he turned and walked towards the trees, where the shadow that awaited him resolved itself into a tall warrior.

"Wait! I don't know your name!" she called.

He turned. "Call me . . . Myrnin."

Then he was gone, vanishing like smoke into the trees.

**A/N: So who liked the sword fight? And who do you think Ivy's mysterious boy is?**


	24. Rebels and Rogues

**24**

**Rebels and Rogues**

Under the cover of the great black oaks and beeches, far away from the village revels at the Summer Festival, the tall warrior accompanying the youth known as Myrnin shook his head in disapproval. "Why did you run from me? You know your father's rule."

"My father has too many rules. It's midsummer's eve, my birthday. I wanted, just once, to be free of all the damn obligations. Can't you understand that?" Myrnin snapped.

"You defying your father will not make things any easier," the warrior remarked. "You know he doesn't approve of you going near humans like that."

"He doesn't approve of anything I do. Thought you'd know that by now," Myrnin snorted, slipping through the underbrush like smoke. "Besides, I'm one of them."

"Half," corrected his companion.

"But that's the half that matters, according to my father," the boy said, with a faint note of bitterness in his tone. "If he hates them so much, what was he doing making my mother his second wife?"

The warrior halted and put out a hand to halt his young charge as well. "Fourteen years ago, your father fell in love with a maiden dancing beneath the stars at a festival similar to that one. His infatuation should have lasted a night, as is common with such things, but it didn't. He loved your mother so much he married her and took her away to our home. You were the result of that union, boy. A midsummer love child. Love made flesh."

"You really believe that?"

"I was there. I saw it all."

"But then why is he so . . . he can barely stand the sight of me!" the boy objected. "I'm not imagining that, am I?"

"No. But then, his heart changed after she died. In love's absence sometimes bitterness and resentment grows," the warrior said heavily.

"But it wasn't my fault that she caught that fever. She went back . . . back to her people, her family, and stayed to tend those stricken by the sickness . . ."

"Which she caught herself and died despite all our healing magics. And when she died, she took his heart with her to the grave."

"I was only little, I can't even remember her."

"True. But you have her look about you, boy. And it vexes him sometimes."

"Try every time, Puck. He's made it quite plain what I am to him—his spare half-breed son!"

The warrior's lips tightened. "Arion is his heir, you know that's why he spends so much time with him. Perhaps if you made an effort to not be so contentious, Myrnin—"

"You think I begrudge Arion his position? Well, I don't. I don't want it, I never have. There's only one thing I would have of my lord father, and he won't give me it. I think he's incapable of it."

"No, I think you misjudge him. If you'd quit defying him so much—"

Myrnin glared at him. "He's left me nothing _but_ defiance! When I obeyed all his stupid rules, Puck, he never noticed me, not once. So to blazes with that. Now I go my own way."

"Come, let's get back. Before he discovers you are missing," Puck said. "Otherwise he'll punish you."

"So what? I don't care what he does to me," the boy shrugged. Then he continued on through the secret paths known only to those who dwelled in the heart of the Mystic Woods.

"But I do," the warrior sighed heavily. "I care very much, youngling. I made a promise to your mother to look out for you, however difficult you make that task." He looked up to where the moon soared, beautiful and pale, in the sky sprinkled with stars. "Ah, Lady Nineave, you would weep to see the discord between those you love best. Starseekers save us!" He followed the boy, like a shadow fleeing sunlight, frowning and muttering to himself, "My liege, watch what you do, or else you'll lose him, if you haven't already, with your fool's resentment. Their world calls to him, like it did to you once. Who can say if one day he might choose them over us?"

That thought bothered him all the way back to his home, hidden by magic in the trees at the heart of the wood, where his people had lived for time out of mind, before any human had come to dwell in the lands beyond.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

_Regina's palace_

_The Enchanted Forest:_

Regina took another glass of apple wine and sipped it as she walked among her subjects at the Misummer's Eve Ball. She wore a glittering ball gown of red dusted with diamonds and about her neck was a diamond and ruby choker. Her hair, dark as midnight, cascaded to her waist, caught up on the sides with beautiful ivory combs inset with more rubies and diamonds. Regina knew she still cut a fine figure, despite being widowed nearly a year. A bit of Glamour and she knew she could have half the courtiers here falling at her feet.

She turned and waved at her guests, Captain James Hook and his wife, Milah, who were making their way across the floor, Hook with a tankard of her home-brewed ale in his good hand, dressed smartly in a topcoat and tails with a cream colored shirt and velvet breeches. Milah was quite fetching in a gown the color of seafoam, with glittering sequins scattered about it. She wore a king's ransom in pearls on her person, necklace, earrings, rings, bracelets and headpiece. Even her shoes were encrusted with small seed pearls.

Regina gave them a smile, then turned to see what her stepdaughter, the simpering raven-haired Snow White was up to.

She found her stepdaughter sitting among a few other young people, the sons and daughters of retainers, dressed in a lovely gown of palest pink with a hint of lace covering the bodice and a spray of pink rosebuds in her dark hair. She wore a gold bracelet on her wrist that Regina knew her late father had given her. She was laughing at something someone said, her eyes dancing. She looked fair and sweet as spun sugar, and she set Regina's teeth on edge.

What irritated the queen even more was the way some of the boys were eying her. As if they _fancied _her, with her pure white skin and lips red as blood. Snow, her stepdaughter, who was now seventeen, and coming into the full power of her womanhood. Not that she would know it, the puling innocent! Then again, she wouldn't have to. Some adventurous boy would teach her quite willingly the ways of a woman.

Regina ran a hand over her hair, comforting herself with the thought that she was still the fairest of them all, according to her mirror. And the mirror never lied. It was the most trustworthy thing she owned. It would never betray her, like Snow had. Or Rumplestiltskin, that conniving sorcerer, flirting with her and then throwing her over for that missish Belle Avonlea, former princess of the same House, and a destroyed kingdom. News of their marriage had spread far and wide, and since Regina always had an ear for gossip, she had learned of it even before Milah and Hook had arrived in her palace the first time.

Together the three had plotted to ruin the couple's happiness by kidnapping some of their children—after all they had over a dozen, so why miss a few? Regina had been sure it would be an easy thing to snatch them, since that was a pirate's stock in trade.

But things had quickly gone downhill, and somehow Milah and Hook had found themselves on the wrong end of Rumplestiltskin's sword. That humiliation, combined with the loss of Hook's hand, had made the pair swear blood vengeance on the sorcerer and all his kin. Regina had been delighted, and promised to aid them once she gathered enough support from her vassals.

She had a few more contacts to write to and get responses back before setting her plan in motion. And this time she wouldn't be sending a ship full of pirates to confront the sly sorcerer. This time she would be sending far worse than that, and maybe even accompanying them herself. After all, she owed Rumplestiltskin for jilting her.

She drank down the glass of apple wine and beckoned a servant to give her another glass. Wasn't Belle's former husband somewhere around still? What would he give to spit in the eye of the woman who had divorced him over a mere fling? Perhaps she would do some digging and write Sir Gaston, former consort of the princess. Yes, that would do nicely, especially if he still had some followers around.

Smiling, Regina gave her hand to a handsome young courtier and let him twirl her about the polished marble floor. She had reduced the young idiot to stammers and blushes, but that was all right. It was fitting he be tongue-tied in the presence of his queen, the fairest of them all.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

About two weeks after the festival, Belle awoke at dawn and went rushing into the private bathroom she shared with Rumplestiltskin.

Rum woke because of the sudden cold on one side and as he felt around for his wife without opening his eyes, he realized she was no longer beside him. Opening his eyes, he saw the left side of the bed was empty, save for a slight imprint where she had lain.

"Belle?" he murmured, wondering where she had gone at . . . what in hell time was it? He glanced at the clock on the table beside the bed. "Five AM." He sat up, ignoring the automatic twinge his leg always gave him whenever he woke. He glanced towards the bathroom door, seeing a faint crack of light beneath it. The room was still almost dark, with only the faintest streaks of dawn showing through the drawn drapes.

He almost went back to bed, but then he heard the sounds of retching. That made him grab his cane and get up. "Dearie, are you sick?" he called softly. The magic born were mostly resistant to the host of illnesses that plagued ordinary mortals, once their magic was awake, but even they got sick on occasion. He limped towards the apothecary chest where he kept his potions. He unlocked it and pulled out a green bottle.

"I told Ivy that something was a little off about that monkfish last night," he began, wondering if any of the children were also sick.

He straightened, tucking the key to the chest back under his night clothes, the bottle held in one hand. Before he could go towards the door, Belle came out. "Here. This ought to settle your stomach."

To his surprise she shook his head. "No potions, Rum."

"It'll help, dearie. I'm no Healer, but even I know how to brew a few basic remedies," he began, hurt that she seemed to not trust his abilities.

"I know, but that won't help me."

"If it's food poisoning—"

"It wasn't the fish, love. It was fine."

He scowled at her. "Fine doesn't leave you puking your guts up, dearie."

"No, being with child does that," she replied, then she laughed at his shocked expression. "I know it's been six years, but I still know the signs."

"You're pregnant?" he repeated.

She didn't answer for a moment, doing some quick math in her head. "By almost two months. As near as I can figure."

"You're sure? I . . . I mean, of course you are . . . but we've been . . . and you're pregnant . . . gods and hells!"

"Relax, Rum. We didn't hurt the baby, trust me. He or she is quite well protected, like I tell all my patients," she moved her hand to lie over her still flat belly. "Are you okay?"

"Me? I should be asking you that, dearie. I'm just . . . a bit shocked right now. It's a little unexpected . . . it took years with Milah and she claimed . . . there was something wrong with me . . ." he stammered, flushing.

Belle came and hugged him. "Oh, Rum! I can assure you, there is nothing wrong with you! Or either of us! I think there was something wrong with _her_. She never loved you and that can alter one's . . . intimacy a lot. But that's not the case with us."

"Definitely not, dearie!" he grinned. "You make me crazy."

"And you make me want tear off your clothes right in the middle of the day," she smirked.

"As I recall, we did that already . . ." he whispered, his breath hot in her ear.

"Well, as a sorcerer once told me—third's time's the charm," Belle said wickedly.

"He was right," her husband said. "Let's go back to bed and celebrate, dearie."

"When should we tell the children?"

"Later," he answered. His cane fell to the floor with a thump.

But neither of them noticed.

They were too busy celebrating their happiness.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was glad that Ivy had made oatmeal this morning as well as eggs, toast, bacon, and fruit cups. Because she could at least eat that without losing her breakfast. She had forgotten what a pain it was during the first few months of pregnancy, and made a mental note to teach her daughter how to make a certain tea with ginger and chamomile for her to drink every morning.

They had decided to tell the children a few days later, because even though Belle was reasonably sure, she wanted to do a quick test with her Healing touch. And right now she wasn't up to it, as she was feeling sort of drowsy. But then again, she could recall being that way with Phillip, and it would take a few days for her magic to acclimate to her new state.

She glanced sidelong at her husband and suspected the same was true for him. Poor Rum had looked like she'd told him she was dying—at first. Then she'd seen the wonder creep into his brown eyes, and there it had stayed. Had it been like that for him the first time around? She hoped so, but then thought of how Milah had made him feel guilty and unworthy and wanted to strangle the pirate. Really, had the woman no shred of compassion for him at all?

Having treated more than a few cases of infertility in her time as a Healer, Belle knew it was often a combination of problems, and not the fault of either husband or wife exclusively, that led to a couple being unable to conceive. To put the blame solely on Rumple was cruel. Then again, this was the woman who had run off with her pirate lover and left a newborn baby and a young son with a struggling spinner alone. At least Gaston had waited before airing his "little indiscretion", though sometimes Belle wondered if the affairs had started long before Phillip's birth.

After breakfast was done, and the girls had washed the dishes and the boys fed all the animals and taken the sheep and goats out to pasture, Rumple escorted Belle into the sitting room.

"I think you need to rest, dearie. Maybe drink a cup of tea, put your feet up . . ."

Belle allowed him to hand her into a recliner, though she didn't need the help, and wouldn't until she was almost near her time. "Darling, I'm fine. There's no need to treat me like glass. I won't break or blow away."

"Sorry. I'm just . . . this is new to me because . . . I wasn't there when Milah was pregnant with Bae, I was stuck with the duke's company, and didn't come home till after he was born. And with Ivy . . . she didn't tell me until she was almost five months, and starting to show, and she was quite . . . snappish and didn't want me to do anything but spin and make yarn and cloth to sell."

Belle put a hand over his. "Right now I'm feeling a little tired. But this is normal for me. You can sit and read to me if you'd like. I'm just finishing that book over there."

He went and got the book. "A _Winter's Rose._ What's this about?"

"It's a story about a woman who finds true love after a disastrous marriage. I find some of the parallels very easy to relate to."

"Doe she marry a sorcerer then?"

"No, she marries a prince, like so many tales, but her father-in-law doesn't approve of her, so then there's more trouble. I marked my place with that scrap of ribbon."

Rumple dragged another recliner next to hers and began to read, "_Even though she was Prince Alan's betrothed now, Cynthia wasn't quite sure she fit in . . ."_

Belle closed her eyes and let Rumple's voice wash over her, his beautiful expressive tones carrying her off to another time and place effortlessly.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Phillip was bored clear through. Most of his brothers, except for Peter, who was out with the sheep, along with Tom, were down in the yard. Rafe was showing Jack and Nick how to shoot, while Bae and Rennie were sparring, he with a sword and she with her staff. Aurora was off with Archie somewhere, and Ivy was showing Kristen and Jasmine how to make strawberry tarts and had shooed Phillip from the kitchen when she caught him sticking his finger into the preserves again.

Elaina was embroidering something, while June, Nora, and Clary played house for the fifth time. Finn was giving Ariel a lesson with her new mandolin, and Phillip didn't want to listen to her play chords over and over.

Not wanting to get talked into playing the father in his sisters' game, Phillip wandered outside. Everyone seemed to have something to do except him, but he knew better than to complain that he was bored where his parents could hear it. Then they'd give him work to do.

He watched Rafe help Nick pull back his child-sized bow and aim at the target for awhile. Of course Nick couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. Phillip was sure he could do it better, if only they had a bow small enough for him. Rafe was going to have Fletcher Thomas make one for him, but of course he hadn't talked to the man yet.

Still bored, Phillip decided to go and see the horses. He went into the feed bin in the barn and took out a few carrots and pieces of stale bread to give to Rogue, Flicker, and Steady. Then he headed up behind the barn to the twin pastures where the horses were. Rogue was in a paddock by herself, since Flicker was keeping Steady company today.

Phillip leaned on the fence and whistled the black mare over and fed her some carrots. Rogue munched them gratefully.

After petting her a bit, the little boy went and fed Steady a piece of bread, and then Flicker came nosing his way over and Phillip gave him the last carrot. As he stroked the red colt's nose, Phillip wondered what it would be like to ride him.

The colt was smaller than Jack's horse and seemed to have calmed down a lot since Steady came. Maybe he'd been lonely. Phillip scratched his nose, then climbed to the top of the gate.

He was sure he could ride Flicker for a little bit. Even though Jack, Bae, and Papa had warned him that Flicker was too skittish for a new rider, Phillip thought they'd been mistaken, especially since Flicker was leaning calmly against the fence, practically dozing like an old nag.

He threw a leg over the colt's back, and sat up tall on him, as Jack had shown him.

Flicker didn't move.

Phillip kicked him gently with his heels. "Come on, Flicker! Giddyap!" He clucked to the colt the way he'd seen Jack and Bae do when they rode.

Flicker snorted and lifted his head. He walked quietly across the pasture with Phillip on his back.

Phillip tugged on his mane and the colt went a bit faster. "Good boy! Good horse! See, you're not afraid of anything, are you, Flicker?"

The colt flicked an ear back at Phillip's patter and put his head down to graze.

Nearby, Steady cropped the grass and swished his tail.

The fly buzzing about the bay stallion took flight and landed on the colt's haunches. It nipped Flicker hard.

The colt threw up his head and snorted, smacking his tail at the fly, which flew buzzing about his head.

Flicker whinnied, then true to his name, shied and began to run across the field, with Phillip clinging for dear life to his neck.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was almost dozing when she heard a pair of feet come loudly into the house, then Nick burst into the room.

"Nicholas, don't wake your mother—" Rumple began.

"Mom! Mom! You gotta come quick! Jack found Phillip in the pasture with Flicker and he's just lying there, not moving! Bae was gonna pick him up and bring him inside . . ."

"No! Nick, go back and tell Bae to leave him alone!" Belle cried, wide awake now. "He could hurt Phil worse if he tries that. I'm coming!"

"Me too," Rumple cried. "Give me your hand, dearie!"

"Rum, dammit, I can walk!" Belle began.

"You don't have to. I can transport us there," her husband said.

Belle placed her hand in his and she was surrounded by a purple light. She shut her eyes, feeling an odd sense of vertigo. But when she opened them a minute later, she found herself standing just outside the pasture gate, where Bae, Rafe, Rennie, and Jack were crouched over her youngest son's still form.


	25. Blue Days

**25**

**Blue Days**

"Let me see him!" Belle ordered, her voice crackling with her old tone of command that she had used on occasion as princess of Avonlea. "Please, move out of the way."

The older children drew back as Belle rushed forward and knelt at Phillip's side. Hard on her heels was her husband, his hands conjuring a flat board with some blankets on it to put Phillip on once Bella had examined initially. He had the boad hover gently to the side, while he watched as his wife put her hand on Phillip's neck, counting the pulse beats there.

"His pulse is steady," Belle informed him. She peeled back his eyelids, revealing the white sclera. "I need a light."

"Here," Rumplestiltskin said, and his finger lit up.

"Move it back and forth before his eyes, so I can see them," Belle instructed.

Rumple obeyed, and Belle examined the boy's eyes, managing to get the pupils to come forward so she could see what size they were.

"Damn! One is a little larger than the other."

"Meaning?" Rumple asked.

"Concussion," she replied, then she gently felt the back of her son's head. "There's a lump here, looks like he hit the ground pretty hard." She continued probing. "And a cut here and here."

She gently felt the little boy's torso, arms, legs, and feet. "He has a broken arm." She placed her hands on his chest and concentrated. Flickers of blue power arced from her hands into Phillip, then she removed her hands. "He's also bruised on his back and bottom, but other than that, he's okay. No internal injuries, thank the gods, except for the concussion."

"Let's get him inside, Belle," Rum said, then gestured, and Phillip's still form was levitated gently onto the board and floated through the gate Bae held open.

Everyone followed it.

"Will he be okay, Mom?" asked Rennie.

"Yes, after I set his arm and give him some medicine to reduce the swelling in his head. He could have a fever as well and will need to stay in bed for several days," Belle answered. "Who found him here?"

"I did," Jack spoke up. "I heard Steady neighing and went to see what was wrong. Then I saw Phil lying there, and Steady and Flicker by him, nosing him a bit."

"He must have been riding Flicker and he spooked," Bae surmised.

"Oh, gods! After all the times you and Rum told him not to!" groaned Belle. "I guess he's more impulsive than I thought."

"He's a little boy, Belle. They all do things they're not supposed to at his age. Or even older, right, Jack?"

"Yes, Papa," his son sighed.

They floated the stretcher into the kitchen and laid it on the table.

"What happened?" Ivy, Kristen, and Jasmine cried.

"Phil was riding Flicker and he fell off and hit his head and broke his arm," Rafe informed them.

"Oh my goodness!" Jasmine gasped.

"Will he be okay?" asked Kristen.

"How badly broken is his arm?" was Ivy's question.

"I'll know in a moment," Belle said. "Someone get me scissors. I need to cut away his sleeve."

Ivy brought her a pair of kitchen shears and Belle carefully slit Phillip's shirt and removed it. Then she did a more thorough examination of his arm. "A simple fracture, here above the elbow," she said. "An easy thing for me to set. But I'll need you to hold him still, Rum. Or Bae or Rafe."

"I'll hold his right shoulder," said Bae, moving to do so.

"I'll get his feet."

"Before I hold anything, let me cast something on him to numb the area," Rumplestiltskin said. "It'll make it easier on all of us." He passed his hand across the injured arm and a purple light encased it for a moment. When it went out, he moved to hold the boy's left shoulder steady.

"I'll get some bandages," Ivy said.

Belle took hold of both parts of Phillip's arm, then counted softly to three before pulling them back into alignment.

Phillip remained asleep through the entire procedure, thanks to Rum's spell.

"All right, boys, you can let go," the Healer said. "Ivy, where are those bandages?"

"Here, Mom," Ivy handed her several strips of linen.

Belle took them and said, "I'll need some splints too."

"I'll get some," Jack said, anxious to be doing something. He ran out to the woodpile outside and got two small lengths of wood.

Belle took the splints and placed them about her son's arm then wrapped it with the bandages. "Damn! I need plaster," she muttered.

"Allow me, dearie," Rumple said, and he whispered something, causing the bandages to grow stiff and firm about the arm. Then he fashioned a sling out of the leftover ones and said, "How's that, Belle?"

"Good. Now let's turn him over so I can see the back of his head."

Rum helped turn the little boy and Belle used a cloth and some hot water with some vinegar in it given to her by Kristen to wash off the blood dried there. One of the cuts was shallow. But the other was deeper. "I'll need to stitch this. Would someone bring me my medical bag?"

"I'll get it!" Jasmine ran to the small closet in the hall where Belle kept it.

"Thank you, Jasmine," Belle said and placed the bag on the table.

Then she went to the sink and scrubbed her hands with some strong soap. She disinfected the needle by passing it through a lit match and then threaded it. Then she began to sew, using neat stitches.

Phillip stirred, groaning.

Rum put his hand on the boy's head. "Easy, lad. Sleep."

Phillip lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Belle made four stitches before she tied off the thread and put some salve over the cuts and wrapped his head with another bandage. "There! Now let's get him upstairs."

"Can I carry him, or should we use this?" asked Bae.

"Since I've set his arm and he's not injured anywhere else, you can pick him up," Belle said.

She ascended the stairs first, arriving at Phillip's room, which he shared with Nick. She cast two spells on the sheets, one to disinfect them and a second that warmed them. She placed a towel down then instructed Bae to put him down.

Once Bae had done so, she removed the rest of Phillip's clothes and put a clean shirt on him and underwear. She covered his feet with socks and gently pulled the blanket up around him. "Rum, do you have a potion for pain and headaches? He'll probably need something stronger than my tea when he wakes at first."

"Yes, I'll get them." The sorcerer made his way to his bedroom and got what was necessary out of his apothecary chest.

He put them on the small nightstand next to Phillip's bed, then said to Belle, "You really should stay here and rest a bit, dearie. The children and I can handle the rest of the chores and supper tonight."

"All right, Rum," the Healer agreed.

Rafe fetched her the rocker from her bedroom and Belle sat in it. Rennie brought her the book from the sitting room and Rumple lit the lamps in the room, then he went downstairs with the children to oversee their chores and inform the rest of them what had happened.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle dozed lightly in the rocker beside Phillip's bed. Rennie came and put a small afghan over her while she did so, and checked to see if her brother was awake, but he was still out.

Chores were done, lessons were completed, and supper was eaten with much less than the usual boisterousness. Everyone was concerned over Phillip, this was the first time any of the younger set had been seriously injured before.

Rum carried some stew, bread with butter, and some cold buttermilk up to Belle so she could eat, knowing she wouldn't leave her son alone.

"How is he?" he asked upon entering the room.

"Still asleep," she said. "But then, he would be with what you cast on him. And right now that's a good thing."

"I brought you some supper," he said, putting the food on the little table.

"I'm not very hungry."

"You need to eat something. You're eating for two now, remember?" He sat quietly on Nick's bed and watched both his wife and son.

"Yes, I know," she said, then slowly began to eat. She knew it was nerves that took her appetite away. But once she began to eat, she found she was hungry and ate everything Rum had given her.

Rafe brought them a plate of little strawberry tarts and coffee.

Belle began to sip the coffee, then all at once her hands started shaking as Phillip's accident caught up with her. She just managed to set the cup down before coffee sloshed all over the sides. "Gods, Rum! I . . . I could have lost him today . . . he could have died . . . the horse could have stepped on him or something . . ." She was trembling so hard she felt as if she would fly to pieces.

"Belle, dearie, he's all right," Rumple crooned, coming over to hug her. "You saved him, he'll be fine."

Belle didn't know if it was his touch or his voice that did it, but she found herself clinging to him and crying all over him, just like a spineless whimpering wreck.

Rumple patted her back and murmured to her like he would have one of the children and soon Belle managed to get herself back under control again. He handed her one of his purple handkerchiefs. "Okay now, dearie?"

Belle took it and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "Sorry. I don't usually fall apart like that. It . . . it must be the hormones or something . . . I hardly ever cry like that."

"Maybe you were overdue for it," her husband said kindly. "Anyone would be upset after seeing that. I am, gods know."

"Then why aren't you crying?" she asked, a bit tartly.

"Because you were," he replied. He continued to hold her until she gently drew away from him.

"I know he'll be fine once he wakes up," Belle said, sniffling slightly into the handkerchief. "But I feel like a wreck."

"You're entitled to feel like that every once in awhile, Belle," Rumple said. "Whenever one of mine—ours now—got sick, I nearly drove myself crazy worrying about them until they got better. Thank all the gods it wasn't that often, otherwise I might have become a nervous wreck."

"If he doesn't wake soon, I want to stay here tonight."

"Of course. You can sleep on Nick's bed and we'll put him in with Rafe and Bae tonight," Rumple said easily. "Now why don't you try one of these tarts? Sugar always makes me feel better."

"_You_ make me feel better," his wife smiled.

"Good, because you're stuck with me," he said, and plucked a tart off the tray and fed it to her.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Phillip woke sometime in the middle of the night, whimpering and calling out for Belle and Rumple.

Both parents woke instantly, and Belle hugged him and asked him a few questions to test his memory before saying, "Oh, Phillip Maurice, you scared me half to death!"

"I fell off Flicker, Mom. I didn't mean to," Phillip said.

"You shouldn't have been riding Flicker, young man."

"I thought I could . . . just a little." He winced. "Am I in trouble?"

"No. I think breaking your arm and knocking yourself silly and having to get stitches is enough of a punishment," Belle said. "But don't ever do anything like that again, understand?"

"Yes, Mom. My head hurts."

Belle went to give him some of the pain potion Rumple had put there.

Phillip took a mouthful and promptly spit it out. "Yuck! I ain't drinking that, Mom."

"Phil, I know it tastes nasty but . . . it'll help you get well," Belle coaxed.

The little boy shook his head stubbornly. "No! I don't want it!"

"Let's make a deal, son. What if you drank some and then you ate a strawberry tart?" Rumple bargained.

"It's gonna make me sick," Phillip cried. "I hate medicine!" He started sniffling.

Rumple thought fast. Jack had always fought taking any kind of medicine too. "Phillip, do you know what happens to little boys who don't take medicine when they're sick?"

"No."

"They have to stay in bed for weeks and don't get to go outside and play or do anything fun," he told the boy. "Is that what you want?"

"No! I hate being stuck in bed."

"Then will you be a brave lad for me and take this potion?"

Phillip considered. "I guess." One thing he didn't want was to be stuck in bed for weeks. He'd go out of his mind.

"All right. On three, dearie," Rumple picked up the vial of potion and put it to the boy's lips. "Ready? One . . . two . . . three . . . swallow."

Phillip managed to get all of the horrid stuff down. After all, he wanted to prove to his new father he was brave.

Before he could start gagging, Rumple got him some water. Then he gave the boy a half a strawberry tart at Belle's nod.

"That was nasty!" the little boy grimaced. "How come you don't make medicine that tastes good?"

"Because then we'd have an epidemic of sick children," Belle smirked. "Finish that and you can take the other one."

"Aww, Mom!"

"Then you can eat another strawberry tart and drink some milk," his mother said.

Phillip sighed. "All _right_! Can you count again, Papa?"

So Rumple counted, and helped his son drink the last potion. Then they all ate some tarts and drank some milk.

Then Phillip said he was sleepy and asked Belle to read to him.

She started to read one of his adventure stories, but got only through half a chapter before Phillip fell asleep again.

"Go and lie down, dearie," her husband ordered. "I can sit there now."

So Belle did, and soon she was asleep as well.

Rumple kept watch for another twenty minutes before he too was snoozing.

Then the only thing awake in the room was Puss, who had come in and curled up on Phillip's feet. The cat began to purr, and soon the room echoed to the soothing sound, which made all three humans fall into a deeper restful sleep.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle insisted that Phillip remain in bed for four days following the accident. For the first two days, the little boy mostly slept, ate, and was taken back and forth to the bathroom. All of his siblings visited for a little while, but soon they left and Phillip was alone, except for Puss, who seemed to like staying with him and purring whenever he stroked her. By the third day, Phillip was fed up with being in bed, and decided to stage a rebellion.

He threw half his breakfast on the floor when Rennie brought it to him and when she asked what happened, he told her it fell. He didn't say he'd shoved it off his lap.

"I want cookies."

"There are none baked. You'll have to wait," Rennie said, sweeping up the mess.

"I don't want to wait! I want 'em now!"

"Well, unless you want to bake them yourself, little brother, you'll wait until Ivy and I make them," Rennie said.

"I'm sick of waiting!" Phillip sulked.

Before Rennie could say anything else, Belle came into the room. "It's time for you to take your medicine," she said.

"No! I'm sick of taking it!" her son wailed. He turned his face into the pillow when Belle held out the spoon.

"If you don't take your medicine, you'll be sick for a long time," she said.

But Phillip wasn't going to be taken in by that tactic again. He remained with his head in the pillow. "No! No!"

"You can have the first cookie if you listen to Mom and take your medicine," persuaded Rennie.

A head shake.

When Belle went to straighten the covers, Phillip kicked them off.

"I'm sick of being in here!"

"If you rest, your head will get better and you can come out," Belle reasoned.

"No! I'm not gonna rest and I'm not gonna take my medicine!"

"Phillip, stop being impossible," Belle said. "You're behaving like a spoiled brat."

"Don't care!"

"Sit up and take your medicine."

"No!"

Belle glared at her recalcitrant son. "If you weren't sick, young man . . ."

"What's going on in here?" asked Rumple. He limped into the room.

"I wanna get out of here, Papa!" Phillip said into the pillow.

"He won't take his medicine for me," Belle sighed. "And he's throwing a tantrum because of it."

"Ah, that's too bad," Rumple sighed, winking at Belle. "Because little brats don't get candy. Instead they get—"

"A good spanking," Rafe put in, walking into the room.

Phillip lifted his head from the pillow. "You can't spank me, Rafe! I've got a broken arm."

"Yeah, and that's the only reason you're allowed to act like this," his brother said. "You're behaving worse than Clary, little brother."

"Am not!"

"Isn't he, Mom?" Rafe asked.

"I'm afraid so," she replied.

Stung, Phillip turned over. "Am _not_! She's a baby! I'm six!"

"Really? Because only babies throw fits over medicine," Rafe said. "Real men just suck it up and take it."

Phillip's lower lip jutted out. "I'm a real man, Rafe! I ain't a girl!"

"You sure? Because you're acting like a girl now."

Rennie elbowed him in the ribs. "You were worse when you were his age," she hissed.

"Shut up!" he whispered. Then he said to Phillip, "Maybe I ought to start calling you by your new name."

"What name?"

"Philomena," Rafe replied.

"No! That's a girl's name, Rafe!"

"Maybe you've become one since breaking your arm."

"No! I'm _not_ a girl!" Phillip cried.

"Prove it," Rafe said.

"Mom, Rafe's calling me names," Phillip whined.

"Rafe," Belle pretended to scold her eldest son.

"Okay, Philly. I'll go and tell everyone—"

"No! No! I'll take it."

Belle gave him two spoonfuls of her concentrated bone mending syrup.

Phillip forced himself to swallow it. "See? I ain't a girl!"

"Are not," Belle corrected.

"I told you so," Phillip said.

"Maybe I was wrong," Rafe said, then he winked at his mother before he left the room.

"Sometimes he's actually clever," Rennie remarked, before following him downstairs.

"But I'm bored, Mom! I wanna get up," Phillip complained.

"Tomorrow. For now you need to rest," Belle said firmly.

Phillip scowled at her. "I hate resting! It sucks!"

"It does, doesn't it?" Finn said from the doorway. He came into the room carrying his flute. "I felt like that too when I was stuck in bed after those stupid pirates knocked me out."

"You did?"

"Uh huh." Finn sat down on the bottom of the bed. "But because I rested, I got well quicker."

"Can you play your flute for me?"

"I'll do better than that," his brother said. "Watch."

He set the flute to his lips and began to play a stirring martial air.

Immediately all the toy soldiers lined up in the cabinet alongside Nick's bed jumped to attention.

Finn played stanza after stanza, making the soldiers march through the air, and jump off the shelf. Another tune and they lined up and pretended to fight each other.

Phillip watched, wide-eyed.

After one side had won, Finn had the soldiers march back into the cabinet and had Phillip's stuffed animals come out to play. He made them run and jump and dance, all to the time of whatever tune he played.

Phillip grinned and clapped his hands.

One of his stuffed bears cartwheeled onto the bed and gently cuffed the little boy on the ear before it sank down next to him.

Finn lowered his flute. "Don't give Mom a hard time, you hear?"

"Okay, Finn. I'll be good. Can you play some more?"

Smirking, Belle and Rumple left the room, for it seemed Phillip's brother had the situation well in hand.

"Sure." He began to play again, and now Phillip's collection of wooden horses popped out of the toy chest and ran about on the air.

Finn made them jump onto the bed and across Phillip's knees, rearing and stamping and even whinnying. For a finale, he had them all line up at the bottom of the bed and bow to his brother before they ran back into the toy chest.

"That was so cool, Finn!"

"Thanks. And I get to practice my magic at the same time," Finn said. "You aren't bored now, right?"

"Nope. Umm . . . I need the bathroom."

Finn rose. "I'll take you."

"I can walk."

"Not right now, you can't. You could fall."

"But . . ."

"Look, I know it's a pain. But it's for your own good," Finn said. "Least that's what Bae said to me when I complained. Come on, before you have an accident." He carefully picked up his brother. "Put your good arm around my neck."

Phillip did so. Finn walked swiftly down the hall to the nearest bathroom.

Afterwards, he helped the little boy brush his teeth, saying, "You're lucky you broke your left arm, kid. At least you can still hold things with your right hand."

"Next time I won't ride Flicker alone."

"_Now_ you're using your head, kid," his brother said. Then he scooped him up and brought him back to bed.

Ariel stopped by and she and Finn played and sang duets until Phillip yawned and said he was tired. Then they played a lullaby until his eyes shut.

"Okay, now we can have a snack," the little mermaid said.

"Good, because using my magic like that makes me want to eat a cow," Finn said, tucking his flute back into his belt.

"Ivy and Rennie made black and white frosted shortbreads and sugar cookies," Ariel said.

"Quick, let's get some before they're all gone," Finn said, and they ran downstairs.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Just before supper, Jasmine came in and said, "How're you feeling, Phil?"

"A little better. But my head's kind of sore. And scratchy."

Jasmine nodded. "That's cause it's healing. At least that's what my old nurse used to say after I'd gotten scraped up chasing after my tiger."

"Can you tell me about Rajah?"

Jasmine sat in the rocker. "One day when I came back from breakfast, I found a little tiger cub in my room . . ."

She told Phillip several stories of her and her tiger, who grew up to be her friend and fierce protector. Except there was one thing the tiger couldn't protect her against, and that was the evil sorceress who'd enchanted her family and their guests, which had been Elaina and her parents and their servants.

"What happened to the wicked witch?"

"The snow queen? Papa turned her into a statue, like she did to us. And then she melted."

"Good! That's what she gets for doing bad things with her magic," Phillip said. "But it's too bad about your parents, Jasmine. And Rajah."

"I know. Sometimes I still miss them. But at least I live with somebody who understands magic now. My nurse used to yell at me for talking to animals, even the horses."

"How are the horses doing?"

"They're good. Except Steady and Rogue are mad at Flicker for hurting you."

"They are? But it wasn't really his fault I fell off. I just couldn't hold on tight enough."

"Then you're not mad at him for running away like that?"

"No. I just can't ride good enough yet."

"Then maybe I ought to tell Flicker that. He's really sorry you got hurt."

"You should. Then maybe the others will stop blaming him."

"I'll go do that after supper," Jasmine said.

"Bring him a carrot from me."

"Okay. Want to hear another story? This one's from a book my lord father used to read to me. It's my favorite, about a boy that was raised by wolves in the jungle."

"Could he talk to animals too?"

"Yes, because he learned their language. His name was Mowgli, which meant "frog" in wolf speech . . ."

Phillip listened, enraptured, as Jasmine recited a well known tale in her kingdom, and thought that maybe, just maybe, staying in bed and resting wasn't too bad after all.

And afterwards, Belle had some news to share with him that surprised him so much he forgot to be mad that he was stuck in bed for so long.

**A/N: Who knows what story Jasmine was telling Phillip there at the end? And what should Rum and Belle's baby be? Boy or girl?**


	26. June-bug

**26**

**June-bug**

Belle wasn't sure who was more relieved when she told Phillip he could now get out of bed for short stints, herself or her son. She made sure Phillip knew not to get his cast dirty or wet, and the whole family signed it, even Puss did with a pawprint dipped in ink. Phillip even got Ray and James to write their names on it when they came by to visit.

Phillip enjoyed the extra attention he got, because as the youngest son he was sometimes overlooked, at least he felt that way. Soon he was almost back to his old self, except for not being able to use both hands to carry things. Having only one hand for a time gave him a new respect for Rumplestiltskin, who had only one good leg. Often, the little boy could be found near the sorcerer, watching him do things or sitting on his lap in the evening. And Rumple did not ever shoo him away, even when he was holding one of his other children, like Clary, or June, or even Nora, who liked cuddling with him, even though Nick said she was too old for laps.

Phillip was excited to find out there was a new baby on the way, he'd never been around a baby before, since he'd been the youngest at Shoe House. He wondered what the baby would be, and if it would like him as its older brother.

Others, however, weren't so thrilled at the surprise announcement Belle made. The elder children were fine with it, Bae had even mentioned to Rennie that with the way his parents were, it was a miracle they weren't having quadruplets. "I mean, they're like . . . umm . . ."

"Hopelessly stuck on each other? Sex maniacs?" Rennie snickered.

"Ren! My gods!"

"What? You can't pretend you don't know what it means when Papa says he's going to bed early and Mom follows him up about twenty minutes later. And they lock their door _every_ night!"

"I know, but . . . they're our _parents_!"

"So? You can't say they don't set us a good example about married bliss," she smirked.

"You have a dirty wicked mind, Serenity!" Bae shook a finger at her in mock-reproof.

"_You_ started it, Baelfire! So don't play holier-than-thou with me."

"Now why would I ever want to do that?" he queried. "I like you just the way you are . . . wicked tongue and all."

Grinning, Rennie wrapped her arms about him and whispered in his ear, "I knew you had a little wickedness in you, hero."

"Don't we all?" he asked, before he kissed her.

Rafe and Elaina were not too shocked either. "The only thing I don't like about it is how we'll all be woken up at the crack of dawn to the kid howling," Rafe said. "I had to sleep with cotton stuffed in my ears when Phil was a baby."

"I know. Clary had a wail like a banshee," Elaina recalled. "But she was cute as a button when she smiled."

But if the older set, including Aurora, Finn, Peter, Tom, Ariel, Kristen, and Jasmine, liked the idea of a new sibling, half the younger ones were rather ambivalent about it, like Nora and June, but Nick was utterly horrified.

"The last thing we need is another baby!" Nick muttered. "Don't we have enough kids around here?"

Clary wasn't fond of the idea either, for she had been the baby for years, and she didn't want to have to share her father . . . or Belle either . . . with someone new. When this baby came from wherever it was, she resolved to try and get her parents to give it back to whoever brought it. Maybe Uncle Jeff would want it, since he didn't have any kids yet.

Clary was happy that Belle had come to live with them, because when Belle wasn't busy down at her office, she made time to play with the little girls. Belle showed Nora and June how to cut out dolls from stiff cardboard and paint faces on them and make clothes out of paper. She kept the paper in a wooden box with dried rose petals so the dolls always smelled sweet, and helped make them new clothes to wear. Each girl had a paper doll and some outfits.

Clary now liked to play hospital with her baby dolls, and Belle showed her how to wrap their "injuries" with scraps of bandages and give them "medicine" to get better. Now half the dolls at the tea parties she held with her sisters had some kind of injury or sickness. "This one has a broken leg, she's got a tummyache, she cut her hand, he bumped his head, and one had a bad case of gout, like old Missus Tanner."

Belle made up pretend elixirs of colored water for her to give them, put in special bottles Rum had spelled not to break if dropped. Clary put them in a box and also in her medical bag, which was a small purse of Elaina's. Clary even got Bae to make her doll beds, for the 'firmary, as she put it. Nora and June happily played nurses to Clary's Healer, though Nick declared it ought to be the other way around.

"Why should _she_ get to be the Healer? _You're_ both older than her."

June shrugged. "I don't mind. I hate when people bleed. It makes me dizzy."

"Clary's better at healing than I'd be. I'd throw up if I had to give kids shots like Mom does, or sew up somebody," Nora admitted.

"It ain't right, her bossing you like that," Nick insisted. "She's the baby."

"If it's okay with us, Nick, why do you care?" asked June.

Nick didn't know the answer to that, so all he said was, "June, you shouldn't let a four-year-old tell you what to do."

But June didn't have an aggressive bone in her body and she was naturally an obedient little girl, as well as an agreeable one. If it made Clary happy to play Healer, that was fine with June. Clary liked being in charge, like Rennie, and June would rather not have to tell anyone what to do, she was too afraid of making mistakes.

The only area in which June felt she excelled was with her light magic. She had lessons almost every day with Rumple, learning how to call forth bursts of light by concentrating hard, and making different parts of her body light up.

Because she was such a young child and shy, Rumple often made her lessons into a kind of game, to help her gain the confidence and skill she needed to use her Talent. One game he played with her was called "Mirror Me" and involved her facing him and watching as he touched a part of his body, like a leg, a hand, a shoulder, and so forth. She would then mirror him, touching herself, and making that part of her glow for a short time. Rumple also varied the speed at which he asked her to light up, from fast to slow, and how long she could keep a specific part of her body glowing. Someday he hoped to teach her how to shoot her light from a finger or her eyes, or make it bright enough to blind an enemy if necessary.

"How about making your knee glow, dearie?" Rumple would say one day. Or the next, "Let's see you light up your big toe."

Whatever he suggested, June would do her best to make happen. Sometimes it was hard, because her power tended to flow throughout her whole body and it was easier to make her entire self glow, but slowly she was getting the hang of only having parts of herself light up, or making her light blink or remain steady.

Each time she succeeded, Rum would praise her and the shy little girl soaked up his approval like a dying plant did water. June had been four when her parents had died of a sudden illness and been sent to live with her stern grandmother, who was always yelling and criticizing her for everything. After almost a year of such treatment, June was a bundle of nerves, petrified of making anyone angry, and it was only when she came to live at Shoe House with Miranda and Belle, after the death of her grandmother, that she started to come out of her shell a little.

Even now she disliked loud noises or anyone shouting or someone startling her. She didn't really like to talk about her life before Shoe House, though Miranda and Belle had tried to ask her a few times before about it. June just wanted to forget the "hard times" before she had become an Avonlea daughter, and when questioned, would become quieter than a shadow.

She was closest to Nora, who was also quiet like her, Ariel, Aurora, Phil, Rennie, and Rafe, whom she regarded as a protector. Now she also enjoyed Ivy's company, as well as Clary's, Tom's, Finn's, and Bae's. Tom had taught her how to play checkers and marbles, Ivy to bake, and Bae carved her small animals out of wood scraps. Finn said he didn't mind her listening while he practiced because she was quiet. And Clary liked to play tea party and house with her. They were more patient than their more boisterous siblings and would do quiet things with her.

Unlike Nick, who preferred noisy games like Fox and Geese, or Run, Sheep, Run, and once he had made her play Prisoner, where he tied her to a tree with some of Belle's spare clothesline and forgot about her after going inside to get something to eat. Luckily, Kristen had found her after twenty minutes and untied her. She also, much to her surprise, enjoyed her new father, who was hardly ever cross or shouted the way her grandmother had done, and who liked to sit with her and read her stories or make her smile with the silly jokes he told.

June thought having a baby around might be interesting and fun, though when she stated her opinion to Nick, he just looked at her and said, "Uh huh. You _would_ like it, 'cause you're a girl."

Nick still had some problems with accepting Rumplestiltskin as his father, mostly because his real father had abandoned him and Nora and gone off to "make his fortune". Soon after, their mother had died of consumption, and they had been trying to find him in the forest when they discovered the gingerbread house with the evil witch. Nick had vowed afterwards that he would never need another man that way, and even after Belle married Rumple, he was still somewhat standoffish and resentful of Rum's authority.

Nick was at that age when any adult in authority seemed out to get him. All the adults wanted was for a kid to follow the rules—no running in the house, clean up your room, eat your vegetables, don't tease your sister, and don't wipe your nose on your sleeve. Boring! And a new baby just meant more trouble when it finally got here, with bottles, and diapers, and disgusting messes to clean up. Belle would pay more attention to the baby than she would to him, and probably spoil it too, like she did Clary. Babies, ugh! Who needed 'em?

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

A troublesome morning soon followed Belle's declaration, and it all started with breakfast, when Clary snatched the last piece of honey bread with rose petal jam from the plate before Nick could get to it, as he was busy talking with Phillip. Upon seeing that, Nick reached over and grabbed it from his sister.

"Hey, that's mine!" Clary cried.

"It was supposed to be mine," Nick answered.

"Give it back!" Clary hollered. "Papa, Nick took my bread!"

Rumple, who usually had one eye watching down the table and the other on whatever was being served, said, "Nick, give that back to her." Usually, Clary sat next to him, but this morning she wanted to sit by June, so Rumple couldn't monitor her as well as he might have.

"But it was my turn!" the little boy insisted, referring to the fact that the serving trays were usually passed down the table from oldest to youngest.

"Now, Nicholas!" Belle added.

"But, Mom, she took the last piece."

"Then you'll just have to wait for the new loaf Ivy's baking," his mother replied. "Give that back to Clary."

Sulking, Nick gave the bread back, thinking how unfair both Rum and Belle were, always letting Clary have her own way. He picked at the rest of his breakfast, which was a hard-boiled egg, sausage, and toast, until Rum told him to quit dawdling and eat for there were children starving in the Enchanted Forest. Nick wondered if they'd want his breakfast, because without honey bread, he sure didn't.

Afterwards, chores were divided up, and Rumple took his magical children for lessons. Normally, Nick would volunteer to do something outside, like help Rafe or Bae carry wood, but since Phillip had his arm broken, Nick got stuck inside helping Elaina wash the dishes, while Phillip polished the silver with Aurora, Nora dusted the sitting room, and Jasmine swept the kitchen floor, with Clary holding the dustpan.

"This sucks!" Nick complained as he dried the dishes Elaina washed. "Washing dishes is for girls."

Elaina frowned at him. "Bae used to wash dishes when he was your age, so quit complaining. Otherwise you can help with the laundry too, since today's wash day."

Nick subsided for laundry was hot and boring, worse than washing dishes. But he continued grumbling in his head.

At last all the dishes were dried and put away in the cupboard, and Nick was free to play again. He went outside with Phillip to pet the horses, but today the village blacksmith was there shoeing them, and he didn't want two small boys, especially one who was injured, around the horses while he was doing his job, so Bae sent them back inside.

Then Phillip wanted to play with his soldiers, so Nick went and got them from the shelf. They played contentedly for awhile, until Phillip grew sleepy from the medicine Belle was still giving him for his arm and went to take a nap.

At loose ends, Nick tried to find someone else to play with him, but the magic born were still in lessons, and Nora was playing hospital with Clary again. Belle and Rennie were outside pruning the rosebushes, and Rory and Elaina were doing laundry. Nick paused outside Clary's room, which she shared with Ivy. If Clary weren't around, he could persuade Nora to play with him. Besides, he was still annoyed with the little girl for ruining his breakfast this morning.

Watching them playing, Nick recalled a scary story Rafe had told him once, about a wicked sorceress who made a girl's doll come to life, inhabited by an evil spirit. The tale was called Curse of the Voodoo Queen, and it always scared Nora and June to death whenever Rafe told it. It even scared Nick a little, but he wouldn't admit it. Nick bet that Clary had never heard of the story. Then he got a very naughty idea, and crept into the room, the girls were on the opposite side, performing an operation, and grabbed one of Clary's older dolls from the open toy box.

This doll was rather worn, with an arm hanging down by some thread and hair sticking up like a witch's and her dress was stained with the remnants of grape jam. It was perfect. Tucking the doll under his arm, Nick tiptoed downstairs to Belle's sewing basket and borrowed a pair of scissors he found there.

Then he returned to where Nora and Clary were playing and hid in the closet amid the girls' shoes and dresses.

"Oh no!" he heard Nora say. "We're running out of blankets."

"I'll get some more," Clary said, and yanked open the closet to grab a few of the quilt scraps Ivy had in there, some of which were big enough for them to use as doll blankets, and if not they could always pretend.

As soon as Clary opened the door, Nick popped out, holding the doll in his hands, and making it move its arm, with the pair of scissors, up and down, and screaming, "I'm coming to get you, my pretty!" like the evil witch had when she attempted to shove them in the oven. "I'm going to rip out your heart and crunch all your bones!"

Clary froze, for the first thing she saw was not her brother playing a trick on her, but the wild-haired doll trying to stab her with the scissors and hearing a scary voice threatening to come get her and kill her. She screamed and backed away, and so did Nora.

Nick followed, with an evil laugh, and Clary turned and ran screaming out of the room.

Nora almost did as well, but then she recognized her twin and cried, "Nick, you idiot! What'd you do that for?"

"Because it was funny," he replied. "You girls get scared over the dumbest things."

The terrified Clary raced down the hall, trying to find one of her older brothers or Ivy to help save her from the evil doll, and ran right into Rum, who was coming upstairs to get one of his pain potions, since his leg was aching fiercely.

"Papa! Papa, it's coming to get me!" Clary wailed, grabbing her father about the knees.

Rum winced, then lifted her up. "What's coming to get you, dearie?"

Clary threw her arms about him, sobbing. "The—the evil doll! It tried to kill me and . . . and eat my heart . . . and crunch me up!"

"Clary, love, relax," he said, gently rubbing her back. He'd already surmised it was probably one of her brothers, playing a prank. "Where is this evil doll? I'm going to make it vanish back to wherever it came from." _And then I'm going to scold the daylights out of whoever did this,_ he thought angrily. He didn't mind pranks so long as they weren't harmful, but terrifying Clary like this wasn't funny.

"It's . . . it's in my room! In the closet!" She clung to him, shivering.

Rum took a few moments to soothe his little girl, and rub his leg at the same time, before limping down the hall.

As he reached the Clary's room, he heard Nick inside, sniggering, "Ha! The Voodoo Queen strikes again!"

"But Nick, that really wasn't funny! I think you really scared her," Nora was saying. "You almost made my heart jump out of my throat when you came out of the closet like that."

Rum appeared in the doorway, and saw the twins together, Nick holding the doll and a pair of scissors, looking smug, while Nora just looked exasperated. This was all he needed. He was in no mood for pranks today, especially not mean spirited ones. "Nicholas, what did you think you were doing, scaring Clary half to death like that?"

Nick looked up, saw Rumplestiltskin, and gulped. "Clary, why'd you tell, you blabbermouth?" he cried. "It was a joke!"

"Not a very funny one," said Rum angrily. "You owe your sister an apology, lad." He gently turned Clary to face the little troublemaker, saying, "See, dearie, there's no evil doll, it was just Nick trying to play a joke on you."

Clary looked, and then she saw what her father had said. "You're mean, Nick! Makin' my doll turn evil!"

"Here's your dumb old doll," Nick said. "It's not evil, I was kidding." He tossed the doll down onto the floor. Then he started to leave, but Rumple's voice halted him.

"Come back here and apologize, young man. And then we need to have a talk about playing pranks again."

"Sorry, Clary," Nick said, though in fact the only thing he was sorry for was getting caught at his mischief.

Rumple set Clary down. "Go and play with Nora, dearie. It's all right now."

"Take the evil doll away, Papa," Clary whimpered. "I don't want it here."

So Rum picked up the doll and tucked it under his arm. "Go and wait for me in my study," he said to Nick, then he limped out of the room and towards his bedroom, where he could grab one of his potions before dealing with his disobedient rascal.

Nick slouched down the hall to Rumplestiltskin's study. This was turning out to be a horrible day, and it was all Clary's fault. Why couldn't she have run and hid behind the sofa like June, instead of running to her father and being a tattletale? He opened the door to the study and went inside.

Rumple's study was partially a library, where he kept his magical books, locked up in a glass case behind his desk, and also an odd wavy dagger. Nick had always meant to ask him about that dagger, but always kept forgetting. There were two rather comfortable arm chairs before the old oak desk, which had parchments and quills of various sizes and kinds upon it, along with some inkwells. There were no lanterns in it, the room was lit by the sunlight from the window on one side and also a pair of magical lights.

Rum did the majority of his office work in here, and sometimes used the room to take a guest he wished to speak with privately, as the room was also magically soundproofed, so no one could hear what went on inside. The children almost never entered this room without permission, and it was also the place Rumple generally handed out punishments and lectures when one of them misbehaved.

Nick was quite familiar with the study, as his mischievous nature often led to him being in trouble. He went and stood before the desk, waiting. When Rumple didn't come in right away, he thought about leaving, but hesitated. Did he really want to rile up the sorcerer that much?

Before he could think anything more on the subject, the door opened.

Nick turned, thinking it was Rumple, but instead June stood in the doorway. "What do you want?" he demanded rudely. "Don't tell me you're in trouble, goody-two-shoes?"

June shook her head. "I need to talk to Papa about something."

"Well, he ain't here. Not yet anyway."

"You in trouble again?"

He rolled his eyes. "Like you didn't know, Mistress Obvious."

"What did you do this time?"

Nick shrugged. "I scared itty bitty Clary."

"You really ought to stop picking on her, Nick. She's just a baby."

"Don't tell me what to do, June-bug!"

June shook her head. "You must like getting in trouble then."

"Oh, shut up! You're so quiet you're lucky people even know you're alive."

"Which is better than being so obnoxious they can hear you in King George's castle two kingdoms away," Rumple said tartly. "Did you want to ask me something, Junie?"

"It can wait," the little girl said.

"All right. You go wait for me in the kitchen, get yourself something to eat, since you're probably hungry after all the magic you did today," he told her. The younger the magician, the more easily their magic burned energy from themselves requiring the magic wielder to eat, drink, and rest after casting. Rumple always made sure his magical youngsters ate something and rested a bit after lessons, otherwise they could pass out from magical drain. "I'll be down shortly."

June left, walking quickly down the stairs, her stomach growling. She wondered why Nick could never manage to behave for long. Maybe it was because he never had to deal with anyone like Grandma Maisy. If he had, he would never want to get in trouble, June thought, recalling past times when the old woman had locked her in the cellar with the rats and spiders as punishment. It had been too bad June's magic hadn't worked then, so she wasn't scared of the dark.

She entered the kitchen, where Ivy had some sandwiches waiting on a platter along with some glasses of cider and carrot sticks.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple limped over to the desk, leaning on it, for even with the pain medicine in him, his leg still throbbed and ached fiercely. It must be going to rain, he thought, for the old injury flared when it was damp out. He studied the boy before him, and could tell by a single glance that Nick wasn't repentant at all. Well, he would just have to impress upon the boy the wrongness of his actions and hope it stuck this time. Rumple sometimes wondered if the boy was testing him, trying to see how far he could go.

"So, you thought it would be funny to scare your little sister? I would have thought you'd learned your lesson with the frog incident, Nicholas. But I suppose I was mistaken."

"It was just a joke," Nick said sullenly.

"A joke where only one person laughs is not a joke," reprimanded Rumple sternly. "You seem to be picking on Clary, and I want it to stop. If there's something bothering you, tell me or your mother, don't take it out on someone smaller than you."

"There's nothing bothering me!" Nick flared, angry at how perceptive this man always was. "You always take _her_ side! Just 'cause she's your baby!"

"I would take anyone's side after what you just did."

"You're unfair!"

"Oh? Then perhaps you'd like to write about how unfair you think I am in your essay for me?" Rumple inquired silkily. "Four paragraphs. I want you to write about why what you did was wrong and why you think I'm unfair with my punishment."

Now Nick hated writing anything, since he had trouble spelling and putting down ideas, a fact which Rumple knew quite well, which was why he'd picked that particular punishment. He also wanted the boy to think hard about what he'd done and why.

He gestured to his desk, which he cleared with a wave of one hand, leaving only several sheets of paper and a quill with ink. "You have an hour and a half."

The boy glared at him. "No. I ain't doing your stupid essay!" he yelled defiantly. "And you can't make me!" Then he turned and sprinted for the door, reasoning that Rum wouldn't be able to catch him once he was out the door and down the stairs and he could escape the dreaded essay and hide outside for a few hours. Besides, Rum wasn't his father, so why should he have to obey him?

However, he forgot one important fact.

Rumplestiltskin had magic.

And while the sorcerer didn't use his magic to punish children, he could and did use it now to bring the naughty youngster back to him, casting a "come hither" spell.

Before the boy had gone six steps he felt something snatch him up by the back of the shirt, right off the floor, and float him back to the now angry sorcerer.

Rumple had been prepared for the usual whining and protests upon giving that punishment, but what he wasn't prepared to accept was the outright defiance and attitude. He had never let any of his children get away with that sort of thing before, and he wasn't going to start now.

The child writhed liked a hooked fish, to no avail, for Rumple held him easily, without even lifting a finger.

The sorcerer's eyes flashed and he said in a soft icy tone, "Can't I, Nicholas? You forget, I can do much more than you'd think, and I won't put up with your attitude any longer, young man. You've been behaving like a spoiled brat this whole day, and there's only one thing such behavior gets you in this family."

Too late, Nick realized he'd cooked his own goose. "No! Don't!" he cried, as Rumple sat back on the desk and pulled the youngster across his lap. He tried to wriggle free, but the sorcerer was surprisingly strong, and held him there easily.

"Be still, or else I'll add another swat to the five you're getting," Rum growled.

"I'll be good!" he pleaded. "I won't ever tease Clary again!"

"This isn't because of what you did to Clary. It's because of your attitude towards me," Rumple said sternly. Then he brought his hand down firmly on the small bottom.

Nick yelped and squirmed, for while Rum only gave five swats, he made sure the child felt each one, giving the boy a quick sound spanking.

It lasted thirty seconds at most, and left a very regretful child sobbing over his lap.

Rum let the little boy cry for a bit, then gently patted the child's back. "I trust you won't make me do that again, will you?" He picked the boy up and went to hug him, as he did with all his children after such a punishment, showing that all was forgiven, but Nick jerked away, putting a hand on his stinging behind and crying, "Lemme go! I hate you!"

Rum sighed. "Hate me all you want, now go put your nose to the wall for two minutes. It won't get you out of that essay." He gently nudged the boy over to a corner, figuring it would give him time to get over the shock and the stinging pain before ordering him to sit down and write anything.

Nick sniffled and whimpered the whole two minutes, trying to rub away the stinging pain and thinking about how mad he was at Rumplestiltskin at the same time. The sorcerer was cruel and cold as ice to make him still have to write that essay after giving him a spanking. Which hurt worse than his mother's, or so he imagined.

When Rum called him over to the desk, he came, still sniffling.

"Sit down and start writing. You have an hour and a half."

Nick wanted to yell at him and call him mean and nasty, but didn't dare. He gingerly sat down in Rumple's leather chair, which thankfully was padded so it didn't hurt his sore bottom like a wooden one would have. As he stared at the blank paper, the sorcerer left the room.

Nick made a face as the door closed, then shifted about on the seat. Stupid essay! And stupid Rumplestiltskin for thinking it up. He picked up the quill and began to write, hating every minute.

He had almost finished when his mother came into the study. "Mom," he began, then stopped when he saw the look of disappointment on her face.

"Rum told me what you did this morning," Belle said briskly. "Nicholas, I'm very disappointed in you. This isn't how I brought you up to act. Teasing your little sister and then being disrespectful to your father—"

"He's my stepfather, Mom!"

"Even so, that doesn't give you the right to do what you did. You're lucky he got to you before I did, because I'd have given you more than five smacks."

Nick started sniffling again. He hated when Belle was angry with him. But he hated more that she was defending Rumple to him. "You love him more than you do me!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Nick! Yes, I love my husband, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving my children, even when they misbehave. Now finish that essay and then come down for lunch. We're having ham salad on rye with crispy potatoes, your favorite." She came and ruffled his hair. "And do try and behave, Nick. Rum is a good man. You'd see that if you'd give him half a chance."

Then she departed and Nick huffed and said softly, "I don't wanna give him half a chance, Mom! I want things back the way they were before . . . sort of."

Sighing, for now he was conflicted with wanting to make Belle proud of him and still angry with Rumple, he finished writing and then set the quill down. He was rather hungry, but didn't want to go downstairs and face the knowing looks of his siblings, who probably knew all the details thanks to big mouth Clary.

So instead he slipped out the front doors and went around behind the castle to the paddock. He thought about taking one of the horses and running off, that would make Rum sorry for spanking him and Belle sorry she stuck up for him. But he couldn't ride like Jack, and didn't want a broken arm like Phillip, so he decided to just walk into the woods. Maybe he could sleep in the Shepherds' barn before finding somewhere else to live.

June happened to be looking out the window of Nora's room at that precise minute, and saw Nick cross the field and go into the woods. She wondered what he was doing. He'd already gotten in trouble once today, what was wrong with him? They weren't allowed in the woods without an adult, or Bae and Rafe nearby.

She nudged Nora and whispered, "I just saw Nick leave the yard and go into the woods. What's he up to?"

Nora frowned. "I don't know. Sometimes he just . . ."

"He's already been in trouble today. Leaving like that will get him in worse trouble," June predicted.

"I know. Let's go and bring him back," Nora said suddenly. "He's a pain, but I don't want anything to happen to him."

"But Nora, we're not allowed . . ."

"It's just for a minute, June. We won't stay, and I don't like going into the woods alone. It scares me. You know why."

"I know. All right," June agreed. It probably wouldn't take them long to find Nick.

Then they heard Belle's voice, calling them down for lunch.

"Be right down, Mom!" Nora called, for it was true. They would, only they wouldn't be eating lunch just yet.

The two girls slipped down the stairs and out the front doors, running as fast as they could around to the back and into the woods that bordered the wheat field.

"Nick! Nick, where are you?" Nora called as she ran, trembling a little as they went deeper into the forest, away from the sunny field.

"Nick! You gotta come home now!" June called. "Before you get in worse trouble."

But there was no sign of their missing brother.

Hand in hand, the two girls continued walking down a small game trail, stopping every foot or so to call Nick's name.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Nick hadn't got very far when he heard Nora's voice calling him. By then he had second thoughts about running away. For one thing he was hungry, and those ham salad sandwiches Belle had mentioned sounded like the best thing ever. He was also thirsty and he needed to use the bathroom. Luckily, he was in the woods, so he could take care of the third thing without a fuss.

Afterwards, he turned around and tried to go back the way he'd come, but the trail was so twisty and windy, he couldn't remember which fork he'd taken. Finally, he stood still in the middle of it and called, "Nora! Nora, I'm over here!"

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"I think I hear him!" Nora cried excitedly.

"Where?"

"This way! Come on, Junie!" Nora reached out and dragged her sister along as she ran down the left fork in the trail. "Nick! Nick, we're coming! Where are you?"

"Here! Here!"

The two girls ran breathlessly until they finally burst out of the thick trees and into a clearing, which was where they found their errant brother. "Nick! Why did you run so far into the woods?" Nora asked, gasping.

"Yeah? Haven't you gotten in enough trouble already?" June asked.

"Oh, shut up, angel girl!" Nick snapped. "Why'd you follow me, if you're worried about getting in trouble?"

"Because we want you to come home before anyone else finds out," Nora said.

"You mean, you came here yourself?" Nick gaped at them. "But . . . you two are scaredycats!"

Nora was shivering. "Come on, Nick. Let's go home. I hate being in the woods like this."

Nick looked about. "Umm . . . you know the way back, right?"

June stared at him. "Don't you?"

"Uh . . . I . . . got turned around," Nick admitted.

"Didn't you mark the trail with breadcrumbs?" Nora whispered, a cold feeling starting in the pit of her stomach.

"What breadcrumbs?" her twin asked. "I came right from Rum's study, when did I have a chance to get breadcrumbs?" her brother rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry. We just have to go back along the trail," June said, trying to sound positive.

They started walking back the way they had come . . . at least they thought they were doing so.

Until they realized after ten minutes that they weren't going back to the castle. They weren't going anywhere except in circles. They were hopelessly lost.

"What do we do now?" asked Nora, panicking.

"We stay where someone can find us," June said suddenly. "Remember Rafe said that's what we should do if we ever became separated in the woods?"

"But Rafe doesn't even know we're here!" Nora wailed. "No one does!"

"You mean you left without telling anyone?" Nick asked.

"We were supposed to come right back, you idiot!" his twin snapped.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get lost," her twin said contritely.

"Now how can we get home?" moaned Nora.

"We have to wait here till someone finds us," June said.

"What if nobody does?" Nora shivered.

"Sure they will," Nick said, sounding more sure of himself than he was. "As soon as Mom realizes we didn't come in for lunch, she'll send Rafe or Bae or . . . or even Rum to look for us."

"What if _they_ can't find us?" Nora fretted. "What if . . . by the time they find us we're dead of thirst or starvation or something? What if a wolf or a cougar eats us?"

"I know! I'll glow so they can find us!" June said, and she immediately lit up her hands, making them glow as bright as a lantern. "They'll see that and know where we are."

"Oh, June! Thank goodness for your magic," Nora said, and hugged her sister.

"Yeah, and thanks for coming after me, even if I was being mean to you earlier," her brother said gratefully. "How long can you do that for?"

"I . . . don't know," June said uncertainly. "Papa made me practice but . . . sometimes I get tired and have to rest."

"Well, just try as hard as you can," Nora said practically.

Then she sat down with her back against an old oak and looked at her twin. "So, what did Papa do to you for scaring us like that?"

Nick sighed. "It's a long story . . ."

"Uh huh. And I'm not going anywhere, so you can tell me," Nora said, raising an eyebrow.

Nick frowned. "But . . . didn't Rum tell you?"

Nora shook her head. "No. I haven't seen him since he went with you to the study. So . . . what happened?"

Nick began to tell her, because she was his twin, and he usually told her everything, because she could keep secrets and so could June.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Belle didn't see Nick, Nora, or June at lunch, she assumed they were somewhere in the castle playing, and didn't start looking for them until half an hour had gone by. Then she went upstairs to call them, and found they were nowhere in sight. She found Clary alone in her room, holding one of her baby dolls and singing it a lullaby.

"Clary, have you seen Nick, Nora, or June around?"

"No. I came here and my babies were sleepin'. Shh!" she put a finger to her lips.

Belle smiled at the tot. "Okay. Sorry." She closed the door when she went out, and looked in all the other bedrooms. Then she looked in the study. It too was empty.

Belle went downstairs, where she found Tom and Puss. "Tom, have you seen the twins or June around?"

"No. But I can look for 'em," Tom said.

"Would you please see if they're in the castle?" Belle asked. "And I'll look outside. Maybe they went out in the yard with the animals."

"Okay, Mom! See ya!" Tom clucked to Puss and the cat raced off.

Belle went to the kitchen door and stepped out into the yard. She saw Rafe practicing with his bow, and Bae shadowfighting with his sword. Jack was riding Steady, and Baron was eating some honey from Kristen's fingers and being petted by Jasmine.

But the twins and June were nowhere to be found.

Rum emerged from the barn and came up to her. "Belle, I was just going to saddle up Rogue and go into the village, we need some more corn for the animals."

"Rum, where are the twins? And June?"

"I thought they were upstairs, playing or something. Maybe sulking, in Nick's case. Didn't they come down for lunch when you called them again?"

"No. Because . . . I couldn't find them." Belle admitted. "I have Tom and Puss looking in the castle and I thought . . . maybe they were out here, but . . ."

"I haven't seen them, dearie."

"Blessed gods!" Belle cried. "Where are they?"

"Don't panic, we'll find them. Nick's probably hiding, trying to make me feel guilty. He was quite angry with me after I spanked him," her husband said. "And Nora is usually with him."

"And June? She never wanders anywhere."

"She's probably with Nora. I'll have Rafe and Bae check the hayloft and the barn. And Kristen and Jasmine can look around here. I'm sure they're holed up somewhere listening to Nick complain about what a troll I am," Rum soothed.

"I hope so," Belle said. "And if that's the case, he's going to be complaining about what an evil witch I am once I get hold of him."

She watched as Rum went to tell Rafe and the others what had happened, her hands twisting nervously. Then she went back inside to ask the girls and Peter to look also.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Two hours passed, and Nora had nearly fallen asleep waiting for someone to find them. June had quit glowing by that time, needing to rest. Nick had fallen asleep next to his twin.

June crept across the clearing, finding a convenient bush to hide behind and pee. She was hungry and thirsty but there was nothing to eat or drink around here, and she was afraid to move anywhere. Rafe had stressed to her repeatedly to stay where she was if she was lost, because then someone could find you.

She came back around and went to sit by Nora, yawning. She was also sleepy from using her powers so much, and soon she had curled up into a ball and fallen asleep on Nora's shoulder, unable to keep awake.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rum and the boys searched the entire yard and the barn and found nothing. The sorcerer was starting to panic a little himself, when Kristen ran up to him.

"Papa, Baron keeps saying to Jasmine that he smells them over there . . . by the woods."

"He does?"

"What in hell are they doing in there?" demanded Rafe, who was hot and sticky from running about the yard.

"They're not supposed to go in there alone," Bae added, also looking annoyed.

"Kristen, are you sure? Have Jasmine ask Baron again." Rumple told her.

Kristen ran back to the bear and her sister.

"He says the scent's strong here, Papa!" Kristen called, waving him over.

Rumple looked at his two oldest sons. "Bae, Rafe, it looks like they've gone into the woods. Let's go find them."

Bae nodded. "Right, Papa. Can Baron lead us to them?"

"If he can't, I can, once I find their trail," Rafe said, hitching his bow onto his shoulder and adjusting his quiver. "And once I find those little brats, will I give them a piece of my mind!"

They started towards where Baron hovered at the treeline. "Kristen, Jasmine, go and tell your mother that the boys and I are going to search the woods. Jack too, once he gets back from the de Brabantes. Then stay in the castle till we come home."

The girls nodded and ran to do as he said, after Jasmine had asked Baron to follow the trail left by the twins and June.

The black bear sniffed the dirt, then bawled and began to amble off into the trees.

Rafe, Bae, and Rumplestiltskin followed close behind.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When June opened her eyes again, it was starting to get dark, the sun was setting, and shadows were creeping across the clearing. "Wake up, Nora!" she hissed, shaking her sister. "It's getting dark and we're still here."

Nora woke slowly. "What time is it?"

"How should I know?" June said. "I don't have a watch. It's getting dark and no one's found us yet."

"Nick, wake up!" Nora shook him.

Nick opened his eyes. "Where are we?"

"The woods. Where you ran off to," Nora told him tartly. "Now we're stuck here and I hate the dark. I wish we were home."

"Me too," Nick said ruefully. "Even if I do get another spanking."

Suddenly they heard something rustling in the undergrowth.

June jumped. "What was that?"

"Aww, poor little kiddies! Are you lost, kiddies? Do you want your mama and papa?" asked a cold guttural voice.

"Who . . . who's there?" Nick asked, his voice shaking. He peered into the gloom but couldn't see anything.

Then the brush parted to reveal a creature almost as tall as Rafe, with pale white skin like bleached bone and long pointed ears and a face that was cruel with a pointed nose and cold gray lips. It had long claws on each hand, and was dressed in black, skin tunic and trews, with an axe in one hand. Its feet were long and prehensile, with curved claws on each toe.

"What . . . what are you?" Nora quavered.

"I be an Addershag, kiddie. That's the white goblins of the wood to ye. And you look mighty ripe and juicy. Just right for the stew pot, I says."

June gasped. "You can't . . . can't eat us!" The Addershag's mouth was filled with fangs.

"Who says so, kiddie? There's naught to stop me." It licked its lips.

"We're nobody's dinner!" Nick shouted, hoping someone would hear them.

But the only thing his shout did was bring more Addershag pouring from the trees, along with their companions, the black wargs, whom they rode upon.

As the goblins and dire wolves closed in, June suddenly stood and held her hands out before her. "Get back! Or I'll . . . I'll fry you!" she stammered, then her whole body began to glow like a star gone nova. "Papa, where are you? Please, please, find us!" she whispered.

The Addershag cringed and put their hands over their eyes.

"The light! Ahh! You didn't tells us they were magicians, Crooked Knife!" wailed one.

"How was I supposed to know!" snapped the first goblin, also shielding his eyes. "Mage brat!"

But neither they or the wargs came any closer for the moment.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

First they had followed Baron, then Rafe had taken over when it appeared that Baron had lost the scent for a time. But now, with the light dimming, Rafe said they needed to rely on Baron again, and they let the bear lead the way.

"I wish we had a damn hound," Rafe lamented. "They'd never lose the scent."

"Look! I see something ahead!" Bae pointed west, some twenty yards hence through the trees.

"It looks like a light," Rum muttered. "Junie, I hope that's you."

Rafe tapped Baron on the shoulder. "Baron, let's go see what that is."

The big bear lumbered off through the trees towards the light.

Suddenly Baron stopped and let out a sharp grunt.

"Damn it, something's not right here," Rafe said.

"Like what?" asked Bae.

"Like he smells something bad," Rafe replied.

The bear was sniffing the air now, his lips curled back from his huge teeth. He gave a sharp growl, then charged off through the trees.

"What the blazes?" Rum demanded. Then he said, "Come on, let's follow him! Maybe he smells where the little ones are."

As they began to run after the bear, they heard the chilling sound of howls upon the breeze.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When the wargs started howling, June nearly wet herself in fear. But she knew she couldn't stop glowing, otherwise the goblins would know she couldn't do anything to harm them, so she forced herself to ignore the terrible sound and just concentrate like Rum had taught her. "Feel the light, feel the magic go through you, dearie," she could hear him telling her. "Then call it forth, just by wishing for it."

June shut her eyes, because then she wouldn't have to see the ghostly goblins and their slavering red-eyed wolf allies pacing about them. Behind her she could hear Nora crying and Nick whispering, "Please, please, someone help us! I'll never run away again, I promise!"

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The eerie howl of the warg pack brought someone else to investigate, and that someone was closer than Rumplestiltskin was at the moment to the children trapped in the clearing. The watcher sprang into action, shooting three arrows with deadly accuracy.

They hit one of the goblins and two of the wargs, killing them.

One of the goblins shrieked as it fell with the arrow buried in its chest, and its companion gasped and screamed, "_Il Sh'ennara!_ Kills us, boyos! Let's get them!"

About half of the score of goblins and some of their warg allies sprang away in the direction of the arrows, causing the watcher to spit down upon them and sprint up a tree. Soon the goblins heard the mocking sound of a thrush and a nightbird as the watcher raced overhead, taunting them and giving them a new target to chase. They pursued with angry cries.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"What's that? Wolves?" Bae cried, jerking his head up at the awful sound.

"No wolf makes that sound," Rafe shook his head.

"Indeed, dearie. That's nothing natural," Rum agreed. "That's a warg howling, or my name isn't Rumplestiltskin."

"Wargs in these woods?" Bae sounded horrified. "But I thought you drove them all out of here long ago, Papa!"

"It would seem they've returned," Rum said grimly. "And where there's wargs, there's Addershag. Look sharp, boys."

Suddenly Baron bawled as they neared the source of the light, and then the black bear was running, crashing through the underbrush like a charge of cavalry, growling loudly.

Baron burst into the clearing, scattering the Addershag like ninepins, and smacking the wargs with his massive paws, making them yelp and run to get out of the way.

Nora screamed. Then Nick cried, "Baron! Look, Baron's come for us!"

June said nothing, she was deep in a magical trance, lighting up the clearing nearly as bright as day.

The goblins were yammering and snapping at each other in their own tongue just as there came a swift hissing of arrows as four shafts flew into the clearing and took out two wargs and two Addershag apiece.

"Rafe!" Nick hooted, recognizing the green quills on the arrows.

As Baron ambled over to them, grunting, Bae came running into the clearing, chopping a goblin from behind with his sword. "Take that, you disgusting thing!"

As the goblin fell, writhing, Rumple appeared in the middle of the clearing. "Don't stop glowing, Junie. Just get on Baron, children!"

"Papa! You found us!" Nora sobbed, then she crawled atop the bear's broad back.

"Come on, June!" Nick said, and pulled his sister up along with himself on Baron's back.

"Hold tight, dearies!" Rumple ordered. "We'll get you out of this as soon as we can." He turned back to the wargs and Addershag who were coming into the clearing, hissing and growling and baring teeth and black iron weapons. "Come on, you whimpering spineless puppies! You chicken-livered cowards with hearts of maggots. Remember me? I nailed your hides to my walls last time we met! Want to try and eat _my_ heart and roast it over your fire?"

Some of the goblins shrank back and whimpered, both at the light and because they recognized Rumplestiltskin. "The Dark One! The Dark One!"

But the wargs were starving and they hated the sorcerer with a passion, since he had killed many of them long ago, when he had first encountered them roaming the woods to gather plants he needed for his potions. It had been many years since, but wargs have long memories.

The wargs charged the sorcerer in a pack of twenty strong, howling for his blood, teeth flashing white in the light conjured by June's magic.

"Papa!" June screamed, jolted out of her trance by the sight of the pack surging forward like a black tide.

Her light flickered and went out.

The wargs jumped and scrambled to be the first to sink fangs into the Dark One, only their teeth clicked empty air instead.

"Papa!" June screamed.

"Keep calm, dearie! Here I am, right beside you," Rumple said, appearing beside Baron in a flash of purple light.

"They didn't get you!" Nick exclaimed in awe.

"Not a chance. Wargs are stupid, boy!" Rumple answered. Then he lit up his hands with fire and began tossing fireballs at the massed pack. "Eat this, you ass-licking puppies!"

The wargs screamed and rolled over as the fireballs landed among them, burning them with deadly accuracy. Their greasy coats caught fire like pine-dipped torches and some of them fled howling into the trees, burning even as they ran.

The Addershag rushed at Rumplestiltskin next, gnashing their fangs and yelling war cries in their guttural tongue, though some of them were cut down by Rafe's arrows and Bae's sword.

Rumplestitskin tossed something at them from a pouch on his waist, and several loud pops exploded into the air, making the goblins shriek and fall to the ground. "Have some exploding beans, dearies!" he sneered.

A purple circle of protection flared about Baron and the children as the Addershag launched themselves at the sorcerer, screaming their hatred.

Rumplestiltskin smiled, his mouth twisting cruelly. "You want a piece of me, you bloodsucking maggots? Here's something for you to chew on!"

He brought his hands up and then down in a sweeping gesture.

The trees rattled and clattered . . . then branches cracked and broke all over the clearing and soared down to club the Addershag. Limbs the size of swords attacked the goblins and the remaining wargs, striking with terrific force, bashing them into bloody pulps and knocking them back into the trees.

Seeing they were overmatched and about to get killed, the remaining three wargs and one goblin turned and ran, yelping hysterically, out of the clearing, yammering about the Dark One's vengeance all the way back to their caves on the other side of the forest.

At the departure of the last of their foes, the tree branches fell to the ground.

Rafe lowered his bow and came into the clearing. "Ha! We sure kicked their ass!"

Bae sheathed his sword. "You all okay?"

"Fine, Bae," answered his father, lighting up a branch he picked up off the forest floor. He tapped the ground with his boot and the purple circle dimmed and went out. He turned to embrace all three of his younger children, murmuring, "You're safe now, dearies."

Both the twins clung to him, crying.

"I . . . I thought you were d-dead!" Nora sobbed.

"It takes more than a pack of smelly Addershag and wargs to kill me, Nora, dearie," Rum said, hugging her tightly.

"You . . . you came for me!" Nick said, sniffling all over Rum's shirt. "Even after I was . . . so horrible . . . you came . . ."

"Of course I came, you silly boy," Rum said. "Did you think I'd leave you here in the dark? To be goblin chow? No matter what a horrid brat you are, Nick, I will _always_ come for you. You're my son."

A warm glow spread through the little boy as he hugged the sorcerer tight. Rumplestilskin had come for him . . . the way his father never had. Rum cared for him . . . unlike his real father. And Nick realized he'd take Rumplestiltskin, punishments and all, any day over his absent father.

"Thank you . . . Papa," he whispered.

"You're welcome, Nick." Rum smiled and then put him back on Baron, along with Nora. "Junie, how are you, dearie?"

"Papa, I think she's . . . fainted," Nora said. "She's lying on Baron like a wet noodle."

"Ah . . . she probably overspent herself," Rum said softly. "We need to get home, lads. Your mother's probably worried sick."

"Papa, why didn't the Addershag attack the kids before we got there?" asked Bae curiously. "Not that I wanted them to, but . . . they were all alone, vulnerable."

"June's light, Bae. The wargs and Addershag hate bright light," answered Rum.

"That's not all, Rum," said Rafe suddenly. "I've just retrieved all my arrows. And there are three here that aren't mine. Someone else was here before us, and left a dead Addershag and two wargs behind."

"Well, whoever he is, we're grateful to him," said the sorcerer. "Now let's get a move on. We shouldn't linger here after dark. The Mystic Wood isn't kind to visitors, and I'm hungry for supper."

A chorus of me too echoed throughout the trees as they made their way back down the trail, with Rumple lighting the way with his makeshift torch, keeping one hand on the sleeping June so she didn't fall off Baron.

**A/N: Hope you all liked!**


	27. Rum's Surprise

**27**

**Rum's Surprise**

Belle was waiting for them with a lantern in each window when they finally arrived home. They were all wet, because it had started to rain just as they crossed the wheat field and arrived in the backyard. "Thank the gods you're all safe!" were the first words out of her mouth when they all trooped into the castle through the kitchen door, even Baron. Her second words were, "You all need to get out of those wet things before you catch your death."

The older boys scattered up the stairs, while Rum, Belle, and Ivy took the twins and June up to get them dried and in fresh clothing. June was still out like a lamp, so Belle dressed her in her nightgown and put her to bed with a warmed brick by her feet. "Will she be all right, Rum?"

"Yes, she'll be fine, love. Though I'll have some Restorative Cordial on hand to give her when she wakes, as well as a pain potion. She'll need both, when you have magical drain you feel terribly weak and all your bones ache. But don't worry, Belle. In a day or two she'll be right as . . . rain."

"It sounds like a real storm coming," Belle said, as she listened to the sound of rain on the roof.

"Yes, my leg already told me that," Rum said, rubbing it.

Belle eyed her husband. "Do _you_ need one of those restoratives or pain potions?"

"I took one of my potions earlier today. I suppose I could take another."

"Come along then," she ordered briskly. "Before you forget and collapse or something."

"Hey, I'm not in my dotage yet, dearie, trust me," he protested faintly.

"No, but you tend to wait until you're in agony before you treat yourself," she answered.

"Hmm . . . that's the cauldron calling the kettle black, Belle."

She yanked him into the bedroom by his tunic laces. "Oh, just get in here, Rum! And take off that wet tunic before you get sick and I have two patients to care for."

"Want to help?" he teased.

"You're impossible!" she scolded.

"Ah, but you love me for it," he smirked.

"You are so lucky I do," she replied, her blue eyes sparkling.

"I know. I'm the luckiest man in the realm," he answered, and began pulling his tunic over his head.

Belle brought him dry clothes and a towel and helped him tug off his boots before she went to the door.

"What, you don't want to stay?" he queried mischievously.

"Rumplestiltskin, you know what will happen if I do!" she mock-scolded. "And I need to check on the twins and you all need to eat. So _that_ will have to wait."

"Suit yourself, dearie," he sighed.

"Oh, quit pouting, Rum! You remind me of Phillip."

"I do not!" he glared at her indignantly.

She laughed, then returned and kissed him soundly. "There! That'll do till we have some time alone this evening. And you can tell me over supper exactly what happened out there in the forest."

"Only if you kiss me again," he bargained.

"Rum!"

"Please?" he asked, smiling at her in a way that made her blush.

"Oh, all right!" she sighed. "Anything so you—" she lost the rest of what she was about to say as he drew her onto his lap and kissed her hard.

She half-melted into his embrace and for an instant forgot about everything, until she heard Nick calling her. "Mom, I'm hungry! Are we gonna eat anytime soon?"

She came back to herself with a start. "Rum, you wicked thing!" she gave him a playful box on the ear before she slipped away.

She heard him chuckling as she closed the door behind her. There were times, not often, that she wished she didn't have kids, and this was one of them.

Nick and Nora met her in the hallway, changed into dry clothes and wearing slippers. Ivy had combed their wet hair and small tendrils of it stood up along their heads. Belle hugged both of them and said, "Come on, there's ham and bean soup, bread, and a potato and cheese casserole on the table, and I'll make you some chamomile tea to warm you up as well."

"Mom, I'm sorry I ran away," Nick said. "Am I in trouble?"

"I'm sorry too, for leaving without telling anyone where I was going," Nora added.

"I think you've all learned your lesson for today about wandering off," Belle said.

"Uh huh! And you ought to hear what happened before Papa found us," Nick said. "But I'll wait until I eat to tell you that."

"Why, Nick! You're calling Rum "Papa"! When did that happen?" asked his mother.

"After I realized he wasn't like my old one," Nick replied. "You were right, Mom."

"I'm glad, Nick," Belle said sincerely. "Now let's go and eat."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Over dinner, the twins, Bae, Rafe, and Rumple told Belle and the other children what had happened in the forest.

"I wish I'd been there," Jack sighed longingly. "Steady could have trampled those goblins into the ground."

"Only if he'd been wearing his saddle and bridle," Bae corrected, for they had learned from Merrin that a destrier was trained to go on battle alert when he wore his war gear, and once you put a saddle and bridle on him, he became a trained war machine, able to rear, strike, and attack whatever threatened him or his rider.

"I know. I'd have put one on him," Jack said.

"Well, I'm just glad you're all home safe, with just scratches," Belle said. "It could have been much worse."

"It wasn't 'cause of Junie," Nora said. "She saved us."

"She was really brave," Nick acknowledged.

"You be sure and tell her that when she wakes up, lad," Rumple said, knowing it would do wonders for the little girl's self-confidence to hear that from her brother.

"I will," Nick promised. "Hey, where's Baron? He saved us too."

"Asleep in front of the fire," answered Kristen. "I guess all the excitement wore him out. I gave him some honey and a bowl of fish before he fell asleep."

"Good old Baron!" Rafe said. "But I still wish I had a hunting dog."

"Well, your birthday is coming up," Belle reminded him.

"So is yours, Mom," Rafe remembered. They shared almost the same birthday, only a day apart.

"Did you have to remind me?"

"You're only going to be thirty-four, Mom," Rennie said.

"Yeah, it's better than being sixty-four," Peter commented.

"Or dead," Kristen added.

"Good one, Kris," Ivy snorted.

"You're all right," Belle said, smiling. "But that's still a week away."

Beside her, Rum breathed a sigh of relief. He still had time to get Belle a special present. And he would see if anyone had a hunting dog for Rafe as well.

Ivy was already thinking of what she could make for Belle and Rafe for their birthday dinners. Perhaps she'd ask Rennie, she would know what their favorite foods were. She also thought about the mysterious benefactor that had shot three arrows into the wargs and goblins before her father and brothers had arrived. Could it be someone she knew? Like the young man who'd called himself Myrnin?

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

It took almost two days for June to recover from her magical drain, and during that time, Belle kept a close watch on her, making sure she took the potions Rumple had given her and ate so she could regain her strength. The twins, Phillip, and Clary kept her occupied while she rested, and so did Finn and Ariel, letting her listen to the new songs they were composing for Belle and Rafe's birthdays.

Rum had asked Merrin if he or his wife, Chantel, who had joined him at last, since her mother was recovered from her bout with pneumonia, knew anyone who bred quality hunting hounds. The baron said he would ask some of his old companions who hunted, they had kennels of purebred hounds.

Now he had to figure out what to get Belle, and this was proving a rather thorny problem, as he wanted something special for her. He had the last part of her birthday all figured out—a romantic night alone, and a candlelit dinner in the rose arbor. Ivy had assured him that she and Rennie would make the dinner for them, so he only had to worry about her gift.

He'd already thought of all the usual things—books, scented candles, bath salts, a new dress, chocolate, perfume, flowers—but nothing struck his fancy. At a loss, he corralled Rennie on Wednesday and said, "Might I have a word with you in private, dearie?"

Rennie looked up from the quilt she was piecing out and said, "Sure. Just a minute," she swept the quilt pieces into her workbasket, knowing better than to leave them out where curious cats and children could play with them.

Rum led her into his study, saying as he did so, "Don't look like that, girl, I haven't called you in here to lecture you." He shut the door behind them. "I just want to know if you have any ideas on what I should get your mother for her birthday."

"Oh!" Rennie said in relief. "Well . . . umm . . . that's kind of difficult. I usually make her a cake, she likes chocolate with coconut frosting. Umm . . . let me think . . ." She tried to recall anything she had heard her mother say she liked over the past few weeks. Nothing came to mind . . . but then she recalled something she had seen in a shop window in the village last week. "I know! There was a new pendant in Jared Grayson's shop last week. It was a beautiful purple stone heart, I don't know what kind, maybe amethyst or something, but it sparkled like crazy. You could buy a chain and put it on there and I think there were even matching earrings."

"Purple for magic and enchantment, and a love that lasts forever," Rumple murmured. "That sounds perfect, Rennie. I can make a chain myself, I know how to work gold, after all. Why don't we go and take a look at it?"

"You want me to come with you?"

"Yes, I'll need you to model for me," Rumple said. "Besides, it'll give you a chance to get out of the castle without doing some errand."

Rennie nodded. "That sounds like fun!"

"We'll get something for lunch too," the sorcerer said.

For a moment, Rennie considered asking Bae along, but then she recalled that he had gone over to the Shepherd place today to help James dip their sheep, and he would be gone all day. She had been going to work on her quilt, which she was making for their wedding, but she could always do that another day.

"All right! Let's go."

They left the castle, she riding Rogue and Rumple on Flicker, who didn't shy as much because he was wearing a special headstall Jack had designed for him that had a hood with small eyecups that could open or close at the rider's discretion. The eye pieces enabled the rider to shut them when they encountered areas where a horse could be startled, and then open them after they had passed.

Rumple kept the eyecups open for the ride into the village, for he liked a horse to see his surroundings while riding through the hilly terrain down into the valley. Flicker was content to trot alongside Rogue.

Rennie rode fairly well, having learned how when she was a small child back in Avonlea. Oddly enough, that was the one thing she recalled her father teaching her. She remembered sitting up in front of him on a big black horse and walking about the courtyard. It was one of the few good memories she had of Gaston.

She glanced at Rum as she rode, then said thoughtfully, "What do you suppose drives a man to . . . to break his vows and . . . seek another's company like my father did?"

Rum took a moment before he answered, finally saying, "That's a rather complex question, dearie. Or it would be if your father were a complex man. But from what I've learned of him from your mother, he sought her out because she was Avonlea's princess, and the heir to King Maurice's throne. She was eligible, beautiful, and available. And perhaps he even loved her, in a selfish sort of way."

"So long as she could give him what he wanted, which was power and glory," Rennie said.

"And when he realized that power always comes with a price, and he didn't want to pay it, he turned elsewhere. I think perhaps he realized that he only liked the trappings of consort and not the responsibilities that came with it. Belle doesn't suffer fools lightly either."

"I know. I remember them quarreling once . . . she said he only liked drinking, gambling, and hunting, not running the kingdom. And he laughed and said where was the fun in working all the time like a peasant? He was a noble, and had the privilege of rank. I didn't know what he meant then, but I do now. I think he was unhappy that my mother didn't share his views. He was . . . spoiled and immature."

"Some men are like that, dearie. They want to play all day and drink all night, and wake up the next morning and whine about how their head hurts, but they'll do it all over again the next night and never count the cost."

"Yes, that sounds like my father. I remember he liked to play with Rafe and me sometimes when he came back from a hunt, but as soon as we got tired or hungry he turned us over to our nursemaid. He never stayed to talk with us, or eat with us, he was always off with his companions, unless there was a state dinner. Once or twice I recall him tucking me into bed at night, but when Rafe was born, he was hardly around. It was Mom who told us stories at night and scared away the monsters and let us crawl into bed with her when we had nightmares. He used to brag to everyone about how Rafe was going to be a great hunter, but he never even taught him how to shoot a bow. Rafe learned from Martin, one of Alice's mercenary archers. I grew up in his shadow, only he was never there, not like you are with your kids."

"He sounds like most courtiers I know, who prefer to be absent parents. Mine were rather like that as well, my father was a tinker, he mended things when he wasn't drunk off his ass, which was almost never, and I learned to avoid him because he was nasty as a goblin with a stick up his ass when he'd had one too many. And my mother was a spinner, when she wasn't spinning, she was selling her thread, and when she wasn't doing that she was sleeping or cooking. Inbetween those things she taught me her craft and how to make a good deal. But mostly I was left on my own, and it was Jeff and his grandmother who looked out for me."

"Your father . . . did he . . . err . . . beat you?" Rennie asked diffidently.

"If he could catch me, yes," the sorcerer answered. "Until the day I grew big enough to knock him on the floor when he raised his hand to me. Then he lit out for parts unknown, because they were looking for men to serve in the duke's army. I was fifteen then, and old enough to make a living on my own."

"What about your mother?"

"She worked herself into an early grave when I was thirteen," Rumple replied. "But I think she was never happy, and no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to please her. I took neither of them as examples with raising my children. Instead I used Jeff's grandmother, old Mary Hatter."

"She must have been a good woman."

"Oh, she was. She raised Jeff since his parents both died of a spring fever when he was three. She was kind and yet she could make us mind with just a look. She never raised her voice, but when she scolded us for something, it stung worse than a willow switch. We drove her crazy, Jeff and I, but she loved us anyhow. Funny, but I recall her asking me if I was sure Milah was right for me before I got married. And I told her I loved Milah, and she said, are you sure she loves you? I thought so, but I was wrong. Like Gaston did with Belle, she played me for a fool. We both made mistakes in our first marriages, Rennie. But this time . . . this time is different."

"Because now . . . now you've found your heart's desire," Rennie said softly.

"Yes. From the moment we banged into each other at the market, I knew there was something there . . . something that called to me. I'm glad I listened to that nagging intuition and went back to see her again. Life's funny that way, dearie. It gives you a second chance when you aren't looking. And then you have to make the best of it."

"It was sort of that way with Bae and me too. We met because of a stupid goose. I used to herd geese and one of them got away from me and ran up the street. I was chasing it when I tripped . . . and Bae caught me. At just that precise moment. I think it was fate." Rennie smiled.

"Or true love conspiring to make sure you found it," the sorcerer said. "Bae is lucky to have met you, Rennie. For awhile I was sure he was going to go off with Jeff, married to his sword, like a typical soldier. I wasn't sure what had made him change his mind, until I saw you two together that day in his room."

"We must have surprised you out of your skin," Rennie chuckled.

"Only for a moment. What really shocked me was Elaina and Rafe. I thought for sure my picky daughter would look for another noble, like she had been, not an archer. Then again, he is royalty."

"Once, but not anymore," Rennie said. "My brother has a way about him, even when you want to kick his ass. In that, I'd say he's like my father, though he'd kill me for saying so. But the rest of him is my mom. Phil too, though I think he gets his daredevil ways from Gaston."

"You're like your mother as well," Rumple observed.

"And Bae is like you, calm and collected," Rennie remarked.

"Until you tick us off," the sorcerer smirked. Then he clucked to Flicker and they trotted into the village.

Rennie led Rumple right to the shop where the pendant was. As soon as he laid eyes on it, he knew this was what he had been searching for. He had Rennie model it, using a piece of ribbon, and then he dickered for a while with Jared before closing the deal, buying the pendant and the matching earrings.

"A deal well struck," Rumple declared after the merchant had boxed up the set and they had left the shop. "Where would you like to go and eat, dearie?"

"The Goose is always good. And then maybe we could stop at Mistress Pelham's bakery. I love her pies."

"Done then!" Rum nodded, then he tucked Rennie's arm in his and escorted her into the tavern.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On her birthday, Belle rose at the crack of dawn, for she wanted to make some new elixirs to bring with her to her office. It was a Friday, and she had some patients to see, as always, at Shoe House. So she had some fruit and toast with a cup of coffee before she left the castle, she would be gone until midafternoon.

Rum woke to find Belle gone, and when he went downstairs, he found Ivy and Rennie cooking breakfast, but no sign of his wife. "Where's your mother?" he asked the two girls.

"She gone off to see patients," Rennie said. "Remember, today's Friday."

"Damn! I was going to bring her breakfast in bed," Rumple said. "It's her birthday."

"I wish someone would bring _me_ breakfast in bed," Rafe hinted. "My birthday's tomorrow."

"I might just do that," Elaina said thoughtfully. "What would you like?"

"Scrambled eggs, bacon, and blueberry pancakes," he replied. "And coffee with a touch of cocoa and cinnamon."

"I can do that," Elaina said. "If Ivy helps."

"You can make the coffee," Ivy said. "If I let you do the pancakes, they'll be like rocks."

"Or her eggs will be runny," Tom added.

"And the bacon will be burnt," added Jasmine.

"True. I'm not really good at cooking." Elaina admitted.

"But you're good at other things," Rafe consoled her. "We can always hire someone to cook when we're married."

"You're getting' married, Rafe?" Clary asked. "When?"

"Umm . . . not for a long while yet, snippet," answered the archer.

"Oh, so you and Elaina are playin' house," his small sister said.

That caused half the boys to start howling with laughter.

"Uh . . . yeah, sort of," Rafe said, then he glared at his younger brothers. "Shut up, idiots!"

"Settle down now, all of you. I want you all to behave today, since it's your mother's birthday and that's the best present you can give her," Rumple said.

"Papa's right," said Aurora. "But I made her a scarf."

"I made her a hat," Elaina said.

"Ivy and I are making her dinner."

"And I drawed her a picture," Clary said.

"Of what?" asked Phillip. He was going to make her a card.

"Of horsies and kitties and hearts. On the wall," Clary said innocently.

"What wall, Clarissa?" Rumple demanded. "You know you're not allowed to draw on anything except paper."

"Uh . . . I forgot," the little imp said.

"Someone shoot me," her father murmured. Then he looked sharply at his youngest. "Clarissa Gold, where did you draw that picture?"

"By the rocking chair. In your bedroom." Her lower lip trembled pathetically. "Are you mad, Papa?"

"A little, yes. You're going to show me this picture after breakfast and then we're going to wash it off and you can draw a new one for Mama . . . on _paper_ this time, Clarissa. And if you forget again, you'll be getting five minutes in the corner."

"Okay. Sorry," Clary said, sniffling.

Rum handed her a handkerchief. "Don't cry, dearie. Just don't forget again."

"Girls!" Nick muttered to Nora. "Every time they're in trouble, they turn on the waterworks."

"She's four, Nick! I remember when we were four, you used to cry all the time when Mama yelled at you," Nora whispered back.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Ahem!" Rumple cleared his throat. "I have a floor that needs washing if certain people don't stop quarreling."

The twins immediately hushed.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle rubbed her eyes, they were scratchy from the heat, and the summer pollen that seemed to be everywhere at this time of year. That was what most of her patients came to her today for, elixirs for allergies, syrups for persistent coughs, and eyewashes for their itchy red eyes. Then there was a case of bees stings, another of army ant bites (the youngster had stepped on a nest), and one of someone who kept sneezing because of a goosedown pillow his wife insisted on sleeping with.

Missus McCreedy came by with her usually litany of ailments, for which Belle gave her a bottle of blue tonic (sugar water) and had a cup of tea and hot cross buns with her before sending her home.

Belle treated a little boy for his scraped knees and hands, which he'd gotten running after his dog, and Archie came by. "Does your mother need more of my Headache Remedy?"

"No, but I have something for you, Healer Belle," said the boy shyly. He held out a package wrapped in brown paper. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you, Archie! How thoughtful of you to remember!" Belle exclaimed.

"Aww, Rory told me," Archie said.

Belle unwrapped the package to reveal a book. "_Life Saving Home Remedies and Herbal Solutions_. A new healing text! Where ever did you find this?"

"I sent away for it from the Enchanted College. I was going to let my mother see it, but then thought you'd like it better . . . and use it better too," Archie said.

"I certainly will. I can read this at night when I can't sleep and the baby keeps me awake," Belle said.

"Does it keep you awake now?"

"No, not yet. But as soon as it grows big enough, it will," Belle laughed.

"How big is it now?"

"Very tiny," Belle said. "When it grows big enough for me to feel it move, I'll let you know."

"That would be interesting," Archie said.

"Have some tea and hot cross buns," Belle invited, but just as the boy sat down, the bell over the door tinkled, signaling another patient. Belle tucked the book away with her cloak and went to see who else needed her, leaving Archie happily eating buns and drinking tea.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle arrived home wanting to put her feet up and rest. But as soon as she walked in the door, she was bombarded by her children, yelling, "Happy birthday, Mom!" and Peter, Jack, and Nick throwing colorful confetti pieces all over her.

Which vanished as they touched the floor, so no one had to clean them up.

"What a nice surprise!" Belle greeted them.

"But Papa's got a better one!" Clary sang, grabbing Belle's hand and leading her into the sitting room.

"Shh! It's a secret!" Finn reminded her.

"I wasn't gonna tell!" Clary whispered back.

"Here, Mom, sit down and rest for a bit," Rafe said, holding her chair for her.

Belle sank gratefully into her chair and put her feet up on the hassock. Rory brought her a cup of tea and one by one all the other children gave her small presents and cards they had made. Bae gave her a new cloak pin he had carved from mahogany, of an aspen leaf. Rafe had made her a leather satchel, so she could carry her elixirs in it, with her initials on it. Rennie and Ivy's gift was dinner and dessert for two. Aurora had made her a blue scarf and Elaina a hat with a purple feather on it. Kristen gave her a pretty striated rock she had found in the stream one day. Finn and Ariel played a merry duet for her. Jasmine gave her a small corsage of pretty flowers. Tom gave her a bracelet woven with some of Puss' hair and a tiny turquoise chip he'd found. Peter and Jack had pooled their money and bought her a new cloak, made of fine summer cotton colored a beautiful emerald green. And the littler ones had all made cards and pictures for her.

"And we were good all day!" Clary declared.

"Except for you, Clary," Nick reminded her, then got elbowed from June and Nora in reproof.

"I forgot! Papa said it was okay!" the little moppet sniffed. Then she climbed up on Belle's lap and snuggled with her.

"Speaking of your papa, where is he?" Belle wondered.

"He's fixing the rest of your surprise," answered Bae. "But for now, you can rest, Mom. We'll bring you to him when it's time."

"Thank you all for the lovely gifts," Belle smiled at them. Then she closed her eyes and dozed off for a bit, and Clary did also.

A hour and a half later, Belle found herself being escorted by Rafe and Bae into the rose arbor, where her husband awaited, dressed in his favorite blue tunic and gray trousers, next to a small table and two chairs with a candelabra on it. The table was set for two with the good china and silver and two glasses of sparkling cider.

As the two boys walked her over, the rose bushes all about in the arbor exploded into bloom. Their sweet scent filled the air and Belle saw that the most prominent bushes were red and orange ones. On the table was a vase with purple and red rose buds.

"Oh, Rum! You shouldn't have!"

He took her hand and kissed it, bowing like a practiced courtier. "You're only thirty-four once, dearie. Come and sit down." He gently held her chair for her.

"Rum, you're treating me like . . . a queen," she said, blushing.

"Tonight, you are one, Belle." He clapped his hands and there appeared a first course of steamed clams and oysters in garlic butter. In a platter big enough to be shared, of course.

He fed her a clam.

"These are delicious! Ivy's outdone herself," Belle said, then she speared an oyster and fed it to Rumple.

"And this is only the beginning, dearie."

After the appetizer, they had creamy shrimp bisque and freshly baked rosemary rolls. That was followed by a salad of strawberries and walnuts and spinach in a tangy dressing. The main course was steak and salmon, shaped like hearts, with dill and butter sauce, steamed asparagus, and tiny pearl onions with potatoes.

Dessert was a scrumptious chocolate cake with two layers of coconut frosting.

It was carried out by Rennie, with all the candles lit, and the rest of the children followed behind, singing happy birthday.

"Make a wish!" Phillip yelled as Belle blew out the candles.

In truth, Belle didn't know what to wish for, as she had everything she ever wanted. But it was tradition, so she made one anyway.

After everyone had a piece of cake, it was excellent, Rum said, "All right, rascals. Time for you to scatter."

"Yeah, Mom and Rum need some alone time," Rafe said, shooing his younger siblings out of the arbor.

Phillip looked back and said, "Are you going to lock your bedroom door again?"

Belle nearly choked on her cider.

Bae almost asphyxiated from laughter.

"Get, Phil!" ordered Rafe, half-doubled over.

"What'd I say?" asked Phillip.

Rennie shoved him inside gently and then shut the door.

"Alone at last, dearie!" Rum smirked. "And now . . . here's my birthday present." He removed a prettily wrapped box in pink paper from his pocket.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to. Open it."

Belle undid the paper and then gasped when she saw what was inside the box. "Rum! This is . . . exquisite! I've never had anything so fine." She lifted the necklace out upon its glittering gold link chain. The purple heart seemed to glow in the light of the candles. And the matching earrings had amethyst crystals as well as purple hearts on them.

"Let me put it on you, dearie," he said, and draped the necklace about her slender neck.

Belle gasped as he clasped it. "Rum! It's warm! And I can feel . . . it beating like a heart . . . just a little."

"I enchanted it. It's as warm as my heart and it beats in time to mine. So you'll always remember that I love you, Belle Gold."

She put on the earrings as well, which glowed gently. Then she drew his head down and kissed him ardently. "You are one extraordinary man, Rumplestiltskin! And I will love you until the last star falls from the heavens."

"Good. Because I have one last surprise for you, beloved."

Then he took her by the hand and led her over to the left side of the rose arbor. He set a hand on the largest rosebush and whispered something.

"Rum . . . what on earth!"

The bush swung open like a door and he led her into a large space, an alcove of living roses entwined together to form an arching room, formed of purple, red, and orange blooms. In the center of the room was their bed, scattered with orange petals.

"An enchanted bower for my beloved queen of the Dark Castle." He gestured at the bed. "Where I plan to make every wicked fantasy you've ever had come true. Happy birthday, dearie!"

Belle was overwhelmed. She didn't know what to say. So she kissed him instead.

But very soon the kissing turned to other things, very pleasant things, and they spent the night drenched in desire, while the moon soared overhead, and the stars twinkled in the velvet curtain of night, the scent of roses surrounding them, making this a night neither would forget.

**A/N: Okay, now how's that for a birthday surprise? I wish I was Belle now, LOL! By the way, the necklace and earrings Rum gave to her is an actual piece of jewelry that I have made for me . . . and you can too, if you'll PM me I can give you a link to my friend's shop.**


	28. Hunter's Hound

**28**

**Hunter's Hound**

Rafe woke up on the morning of his birthday sleepy-eyed and a little irritable. He'd been dreaming of finding the large stag in the forest that had eluded many of the village hunstmen and he had almost caught it when he woke up and discovered it was just a dream.

He sat up in bed, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he opened them again, he found himself looking at a pair of beautiful blue-violet ones.

"Hello, handsome," Elaina greeted.

Rafe grinned. "Now this is what I want to wake up to every morning." He reached out a hand and pulled the slender girl down on the bed. "Morning, beautiful."

"Rafe!" Elaina squealed, pretending to be shocked. "You know we can't . . . not until we're betrothed and married."

"Yeah, I know," he said, kissing her gently. "But today's my birthday, and I wanted to indulge myself . . . just a little. Do you mind?"

"Do I _look_ like I mind?" the girl asked, kissing him back.

"No, but Mom and Papa sure will if they catch you," Bae remarked.

"Like you can talk, Baelfire," Rafe said. "You and Rennie steal kisses in the corner all the time."

"Hey, I don't have a problem with it, Mr. Sixteen-year-old. I'm just warning you," Bae said as he shrugged into his black leather vest.

Elaina sighed. "He's right, you know. I don't want you to get yelled at on your birthday." She withdrew reluctantly from his arms. "Besides, one of your presents from me is breakfast in bed."

"One of them?" Rafe raised an eyebrow.

"You'll get the other one when you come downstairs," she said, her eyes dancing as she stood up.

"Should I be wearing clothes?" he teased.

"Rafe! Do you want your mom to drop dead?"

"_My_ mother? Elaina, she's seen plenty of men naked, including me when I was small. She's a Healer, remember?" Rafe snickered. "She wouldn't faint."

"No, she'd pick up a broom and whack you one with it," Bae chuckled.

"That'd be more her style. And the gods alone know what Rum would do, and I really don't want to find out so . . . you'll have to wait till our wedding night for that one."

"Then I'll have fun imagining things," Elaina said saucily. She flipped her braid about as she turned and went out the door.

Rafe lay back on his pillows. "I feel like a prince or something, getting served like this."

"It's what you would have been, if Avonlea hadn't fallen," Bae murmured.

Rafe snorted. "Oh, don't even go there. I'm no snot-nosed noble, even if I was born one. Wearing velvet and silk and frilly lace collars, ugh! And needing ten servants about me to hand me forks and milord me to death and kiss my ass. No thanks! I like being plain old Rafe Avonlea, huntsman, much better. I'm no courtier, like my bloody father."

"Is that why you don't like all that stuff?" asked Bae curiously. This was the most Rafe had ever talked about his past before.

"Partly. But also because all that—is just frippery and it's fake. Most of those courtiers will smile to your face and stab you in the back as soon as you turn around. My father's a great example of that. Marry the princess and go screw the maid-of-honor at the same time. And you know what the really crazy thing is? He considered that _normal_ behavior. He hurt my mom, shredded her pride and left her honor to be beaten into the dust, and he acted like it was nothing, no big deal. He just expected her to shrug it off and let him go on his way. And to his kind, maybe that's all it was, a little indiscretion. But to my mother, it was like an arrow to the heart. And I'll never forgive the bastard for it," Rafe said hotly.

"I don't blame you. I never forgave my mother for running out on us with Hook, even though I know damn well we were better off without her," Bae said sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to remember all that today, it'll make my stomach curdle and I want to be able to eat my breakfast."

Bae clapped him on the shoulder. "Enjoy it, little brother."

"Hey, I'm almost as big as you!" Rafe objected.

"But you'll always be younger," Bae said, laughing. "See you later, Rafe. And happy birthday!" Then he departed as well.

As promised, Elaina brought him up a tray with blueberry pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and coffee with a cinnamon stick and cocoa in it. She also had some apple juice and a biscuit, egg, and cheese sandwich for herself.

He sipped his coffee first. "This is wonderful. Like that nectar of the gods, or whatever they drink up there."

"Nectar and ambrosia, I think. Ivy would know, she's always reading," Elaina said, pleased. "Coffee's one thing I make well."

"And hats."

"That too."

"Is that my other present?"

"Rafe, quit fishing! You'll see . . . later."

"Can't you give me a hint?"

"No."

"Not even a little one?"

She lifted her nose and pretended to sniff like some great court lady. "Indeed not."

"You got allergies or something, lady?"

Elaina burst out laughing. "Rafe, you're terrible!"

"Yup. I'm just a terrible insolent fool of a huntsman. But aren't you glad you met me, darling?"

"Always," Elaina said when she caught her breath. "Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

"Yes, Mom," he replied, then ducked as she tried to whack him in the head with a pillow.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Elaina came downstairs carrying the empty dishes and tray about ten minutes later. Rafe followed a scant minute or two later, now dressed in his familiar brown and dark green hunting garb and soft soled boots. His quiver was slung over his back and he wore a hunting knife in a sheath on his belt. His hair, raven black, just tickled his collar, and he had large dark eyes, with thick black lashes, almost like a girl's, though no one would have dared say that to his face.

His whole family wished him happy birthday upon his arrival in the kitchen.

"Thanks! I feel like some big-shot hero or something," he said, coloring faintly.

"It seems like you grew a foot overnight," Belle said, going over to hug and kiss him. "And to think—you're the same little baby I held screaming in my arms."

"Mom, please! Do you have to bring that up?"

"Of course she does. She's your mother," Rennie said, smirking.

"I can't wait till it's your birthday, Serenity. And she brings up the fact that you puked all over during your christening," Rafe shot back.

"How'd you know that, Rafe?" asked Phillip.

"Because Mom told him, that's how," his older sister said tartly. "He wasn't even born yet when that happened."

"What'd I do when I had a christening?" asked Phillip, wide-eyed.

"You screamed so loud I thought I was going to go deaf," Rafe answered.

"Why? Did it hurt?"

"No, silly! You were just cranky," Rennie said, ruffling his hair.

Rafe sat down in his usual place and Clary came up and handed him a piece of paper. "See? I drawed you a picture."

"Aww, thanks! What is it?" he asked.

"It's a deer, and there's you, with your bow, 'cause you're gonna shoot it," Clary explained.

"Oh. I see it now . . . I think," Rafe mumbled. Then he jumped and cried, "Hey, what'd you pinch me for?"

Clary smiled sweetly. "A pinch to grow an inch."

Rafe roared with laughter. "Okay, who taught you that, imp?"

"Jack!"

"Actually it was Ray, not me," Jack said quickly.

"Uh huh. Just wait, kid, till _your_ birthday. Then I'll give you a birthday spanking you won't forget," Rafe threatened.

Clary gasped. "Rafe! You can't spank Jack on his birthday. That's mean!"

"Birthday spankings don't hurt, Clary. They're just in fun," Rafe said. "But I'm too old for 'em now."

"Oh, I could still take you across my knee, young man," Belle said.

"Or I could," Rum added.

"Now see what you started?" Elaina rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't me, it was Jack!" Rafe protested.

"Me? _You_ brought it up!" Jack said.

"Let's give Rafe his presents," suggested June. "This is mine," she came and handed Rafe a medium size square package wrapped in green paper.

"A hunting lantern! Thanks, Junie," he said, mussing her flyaway hair. "Cause I can't glow in the dark like you."

"And so's you can always find your way home," his sister said.

Jasmine came next, with a pouch full of feathers. "So you can fletch your arrows," she said brightly. "I asked the birds and they gave them to me."

"You're the only one who could do that," Rafe said. "And I'll bet you asked them nicely too. Thanks, Jasmine!"

Nick and Nora gave him two sacks full of candy, one of fruit gummies and the other of chocolate swizzle sticks. "My favorite candy," he exclaimed. "Thanks, scamps."

"Ours too," said Nick.

"I know, 'cause you always steal mine," their brother chuckled.

From Kristen he received a hand braided bow guard. "Hey, how did you know I needed one of these?"

"Your old one's falling apart, duh!" she said. "D'you think I'm blind?"

Phillip gave him a large bag of wood. "It's ash wood, so you can make more arrows."

"And I always need them. You get this all yourself?"

"Clary helped, 'cause my other arm's not working yet."

"Thank you. Now I don't have to go searching for some."

Aurora gave him a green knitted scarf, to keep him warm while he hunted on cold days. Rennie and Ivy would cook him his favorite dinner, stuffed pheasant with squash, sourdough rolls, and cheese and bacon topped baked potatoes. Rennie knew his favorite dessert was apple pie, so she made three of them, and one had extra cinnamon along with homemade vanilla ice cream.

From Bae there was a new hunting knife, broad-bladed and razor sharp with a design etched into the maple handle.

"That's the Avonlea crest!" Rafe exclaimed upon seeing it. "The crowned rose and leopard rampant. You could sell stuff like this for money, Bae, you're that good."

"It's just a hobby," Bae said modestly.

Jack gave him a new sheath to go with it, and Peter a silver chased hunting horn. Tom gave him a new kit with some matches, needle and thread, and sinew for his bow.

"And here's mine," Elaina said, and produced a green felt hat with a brightly colored pheasant cockade in it.

"Ah ha! I knew it was a hat!" Rafe took it and put it on. "How's it look?"

"Wonderful," Elaina said happily.

"Yeah, he looks like a real sassy rooster!" Peter said impudently. Then he flapped his arms and crowed.

"Looks like somebody's asking to go for a swim in the horse trough," Rafe said warningly.

"Ariel and I have a composition we'd like to play for you after dinner," Finn told him.

"Wow! I rate my own song," Rafe said.

"We saved ours for last, Rafe," said Belle. "But I think I hear Merrin at the door now."

When Rum opened the door, he found Merrin and Ray standing on the steps, their horses were ground tied in the courtyard. "You're just in time. Come in."

"Sorry, we got delayed," Merrin apologized. "Uh, maybe it's better if they meet out here. She's a bit shy."

"Rafe, come over here," Rum called.

Rafe came and said hello to the de Brabante's, then looked at Rum in puzzlement.

Merrin cleared his throat and said, "Rum asked me a week ago if I knew anyone who had champion hunting dogs. So I immediately thought of an old friend of mine, Lord Orion Aventine. But when I wrote to him, his brother answered and said that my friend had passed away recently, leaving his kennel of hunting hounds to him. Now there was one dog that Orion used to write me about, said she was the best dog he'd ever trained, a fine tri-color female with a voice like the clarion call of a hunting horn, and the best nose in all of Forest Reach. He loved that dog, and took her with him almost every day to hunt. But when he died, the dog was never the same. She refused to hunt at all, and Orion's brother was going to put her down, for a hound that can't hunt is useless to him. But I persuaded him to give the dog to me. I figured you'd want a dog that was already trained, and maybe you'd take the time with her that she needs to find her heart again, instead of trying to teach a puppy. Your parents agreed with me, and there she is."

"She's a real nice dog. Only she's sad," Ray said, pointing to a large black, white, and tan hound with floppy ears that lay in the yard next to the horses.

"You got me a dog?" Rafe gasped. "My own dog?"

"Rafe, go meet Rowan," said Rumple. "She looks like she could use a friend."

Rafe stared at the sad-looking hound, then he came down the steps and went over to the dog, who thumped her tail once in greeting. He knelt and held out his hand so she could sniff it. "Hey, girl. Gods, but you are gorgeous! You have perfect lines."

"Here. Give her some of these," Ray handed Rafe some dried jerky.

"Want a treat, girl?" Rafe crooned, holding out the snack.

Rowan lifted her head and took the treat, but it was plain she did so only out of politeness, like a great lady taking a cup of tea from a butler. Rafe gently stroked her head, her coat was soft like velvet.

Merrin handed him her leash. "I figured if anybody could make her hunt again, it'd be you. She's trained to the call of the horn, so if she ever leaves your side, just blow it and she'll return. Orion knew dogs, he'd bred them all his life. She was a champion once, and she could be again, once she stops mourning. If someone is willing to give her time."

"I have time," Rafe assured him. He began to pet the heartbroken dog, who watched him with huge brown eyes that seemed to carry all the world's sorrow within them.

"Good luck with her then," said Merrin.

"Thank you, my lord," Rafe said, rising to shake his hand.

"Don't thank me, thank your mother and father over there," Merrin said. "Come on, Ray. We need to get home, you can ride with Jack another day."

As the two de Brabante's mounted their horses, Rafe clucked to the dog. "Come, Rowan. Come and meet your new family."

The hound rose obediently and followed at his heels.

Rowan stood calmly and let all the children pet her and Clary hugged her about the neck and kissed her nose. The hound licked the little girl and made her giggle.

Then Jasmine spoke to her, and Rowan whined lowed in her throat. Jasmine stroked the silky ears and said to Rafe, "She's so sad, Rafe! She says she's glad to be here, but she won't hunt, not yet. She says it's to honor her old master and she misses him."

"You tell her it's okay, Jasmine. I'll hunt with her when she's ready," Rafe said. He knelt before the dog and said, "My name's Rafe, and I understand what honor means, Rowan."

Jasmine translated this to the hound, and to everyone's surprise, Rowan sat down and offered him her paw.

Rafe took it gravely and shook it. "It's a deal then."

Then he rose and thanked both Belle and Rumple for the best present ever.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rowan got along companionably with Baron and she and Puss even had an uneasy truce, where she agreed to not chase the cat and the cat left her alone. The hound slept with Rafe and Bae in their room at night, curled upon the rug beside Rafe's bed.

The dog happily played ball and fetched sticks for the younger children, but every day Rafe had Jasmine ask her if she wanted to go hunting, and the answer was always no. Rafe didn't seem unhappy about this though, instead he would shoot at targets with his bow and he fed and brushed Rowan until she gleamed.

The hound accepted him, and bit by bit he broke through her reserve and soon she followed him everywhere, and lay down next to his chair at dinner, her head on his boot.

She would watch as he cleaned and oiled his bow and fletched his arrows, sitting alertly beside him, her brown eyes following his every move. "You know what this is, don't you, girl?" Rafe asked her once. "Want to go find some rabbits, huh?"

Rowan wagged her tail politely then lay down, putting her head on her paws.

"Not yet, huh? Okay, then you take a nap and I'm going to go practice."

For several days it rained, giving much needed water to the wheat and corn crops, and everyone was stuck inside. But on a lazy Sunday, about three weeks after Rowan had arrived, Elaina went out to the garden to gather up some celery, tomatoes, and lettuce and saw to her horror that most of the vegetables had been eaten.

"Oh, no! That blasted groundhog's got into our garden again!" she cried, stamping her foot. "I'm going to make that stupid thing wish it'd seen its shadow if I find it!"

"What's wrong?" asked Rafe, coming over to her. He'd been shooting at the targets he'd set up down in the yard and come over because he'd heard Elaina shouting. "You look like you want to strangle somebody."

"I want to strangle that stupid groundhog. It's eaten half our lettuces and tomatoes and celery. Look!" She pointed to the chomped plants and the tell tale piles of dirt throughout the garden.

"I'd get that rotten creature if I knew where it went," Rafe said, shaking his head at the destruction. "But I'll have to wait until it shows its face again, Elaina. Maybe I'll come out here tomorrow early and see if I can spot it—"

Suddenly, Rowan lifted her head, she had been lying in the shade in the kitchen courtyard, and sniffed the air. Her whole body stiffened, then she leaped to her feet.

"What's going on with your dog?" Elaina asked Rafe.

"I don't know. She's acting like she smells something, but . . ."

Then Rowan rushed past them, moving like a shooting star, and she flung up her head and bayed, the sound rising musically into the air.

The hound's white paws leapt lightly over the vegetables as she raced down the rows of lettuce and carrots, parsnips, and potatoes. Her black tail with its white tip was outstretched as she ran, sniffling the air and giving her signature clarion bay.

"Oh my goodness! It looks like she's tracking something, Rafe!" Elaina exclaimed.

"Like maybe that pesky groundhog," Rafe said, smiling. "Go get him, Rowan! Find him for me!"

Rowan cast up and down the entire garden, her sensitive nose telling her exactly where the groundhog was, and she dug near a hole it had made, barking eagerly.

The groundhog was startled, and popped out of the tunnel it had dug and began running across the vegetable patch.

That was all Rowan needed to see, and she took off after it, running silently now, driving the brown furred rodent around the garden and towards Rafe at the far end.

"Elaina, move a little," Rafe told her. "She's bringing it to me. That's my girl, Rowan!" He drew back his bow, nocking an arrow to the string.

Rowan stayed close on the groundhog's tail, letting the little beast run as quickly as it could towards the far end of the garden . . . right by Rafe, who aimed and shot with deadly accuracy.

His arrow caught the groundhog right through the head, and it tumbled over and over before lying still.

Rowan barked her approval, then went and picked up the dead rodent and brought it back to Rafe, her tail wagging happily.

"Good girl! You got him for me," Rafe praised, petting the dog and then taking the dead game from her. "I don't suppose you want to cook this?" he asked Elaina slyly.

"Eww! Gross, Rafe!" Elaina made a face. "You can let Rowan have it, she earned it." Then she petted the hound also. "Thank you for catching that thief, Rowan."

Rowan bayed delightedly, barking so loudly that Rumple came out to see what was the matter. "Is something wrong? I've never heard that dog bark that way before."

"She just got us a groundhog, Papa!" Elaina told him. "It was eating all the vegetables and all of a sudden she found it and Rafe shot it."

"So she's hunting at last," Rumple said, ruffling the dog's ears. "Looks like she's discovered her purpose again."

Rowan barked an affirmative, her tail wagging so hard it smacked Elaina and Rafe on the knees. But neither of them minded, they were too busy congratulating the dog on catching the marauder in the garden.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Now that Rowan was hunting again, Rafe went out with her almost every day, giving her much needed exercise. Often they came back without any game, because sometimes there was nothing they caught that was edible, but usually Rafe had a brace of rabbits, pheasants, or some kind of wild fowl to add to the menu.

Rowan was superb hunter, able to track game through the air, her nose was that sensitive, and when she struck a trail, she wouldn't quit until her quarry was treed or Rafe blew his horn to summon her in. She loved the thrill of the chase and her bay could be heard far into the forest, that deep clarion call of the best hunting hound, telling her huntsman exactly where she was and how close she was to getting the quarry she hunted. Rowan usually bayed three times during a hunt, once to tell Rafe she had struck a trail, once to let him know she was closing with the game, and the last was when she had brought the game into him after he had shot it.

Of the inedible game they hunted, Rafe would skin it and tan the pelts, he made caps for his brothers and small capes and muffs for his sisters for the winter, they were sleek and waterproof and warm. Rumple cast preserving charms on them so they didn't shed or smell.

One day, during the dog days of summer, Rafe came downstairs early one morning to find Elaina waiting for him, dressed in some of Finn's old breeches and a shirt, her hair stuffed under a felt cap. Rafe halted, staring at his girlfriend. Behind him, so did Rowan, sitting down at his left heel as she had been taught.

"You mind telling me why you're dressed like a boy, Elaina?" Rafe asked. "Is this some new fashion statement?"

"No. Unless you like the orphan farmboy look. I want to come with you today."

"Come with me?"

"Yes. I want you to teach me how to hunt."

Rafe gaped at her. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"No! But you're almost always gone all day and if I want to spend time with you, I'll have to come along," Elaina said practically. "Besides, it's not like I faint at the sight of blood. I know how to skin game. I've just never caught anything before."

"Umm . . . I'm sorry, I can stay home today," Rafe began. At his side, Rowan's ears drooped.

"No! I want to go with you. Teach me how to hunt."

"It takes a lot of practice, Elaina. And . . . err . . . I don't know if you'll be able to keep up," Rafe coughed.

Elaina's eyes flashed. "Are you saying I can't keep up because I'm a girl, Raphael Avonlea?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Well, you implied it!" she snapped. Then she kicked him hard in the shin. "Now see if _you_ can keep up with _me_!"

"Oww! My gods, what are you wearing, spiked shoes?" he asked, rubbing his leg. Rowan whimpered and hid behind him.

"Papa's Boots of Silence," Elaina said sharply. "So I can walk quietly in the woods, Mr. Big-shot Huntsman!"

"Do you even know how to use a bow?" Rafe asked, wincing.

"No, but that's what you're there for," Elaina said. "I can watch you and carry the game back."

"Fine, you can come. But don't come whining to me that you're tired," Rafe said, still holding his bruised shin. "Dammit, my whole leg aches!"

"Don't be such a baby," Elaina said. "You can't be any worse than Papa." Then she grinned at him slyly. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"You do and we won't go anywhere this morning," Rafe leered. "Let me get something for us to eat and some water bottles."

"I already packed us some lunch and filled the bottles," Elaina said, pointing to a small sack and two skin jugs with straps on them. "So we're all set."

Rafe snapped his fingers at Rowan. "Okay, girl. Let's go find us a deer. I haven't had a good venison steak in forever."

Rowan bugled happily, wagging her tail.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"See? You have to look for tracks like this," Rafe pointed out the cloven-hoofed tracks in the loam of the forest floor to Elaina.

Elaina knelt beside him, examining the tracks. Then she nodded and stood up. "Where's Rowan?"

"She's gone on ahead. Don't worry, she'll let us know if she's found a deer," Rafe said confidently. He patted the horn he wore at his right hip. "And if she's not back when we stop for lunch, I'll call her back with this."

"She'll hear it?"

"Oh, yeah. And any good hunting hound is trained to come in when her hunter calls her," Rafe said. Then he stood too and began jogging slowly along the trail, following the tracks deeper into the woods.

Elaina was right beside him, despite her willowy frame, she was able to keep pace with him, and the magical boots she wore on her feet enabled her to move quieter than the wind along the forest floor. Without them, she would have stepped on every pine cone and branch in creation. She hoped Rumple wouldn't mind her borrowing them, though she had left him a note telling him so. But there hadn't been time to ask him directly, because Rafe was always gone by first light.

As they ran, Elaina admired Rafe's lean rangy frame, and how the muscles in his shoulders and chest moved up and down. He was well-built from all the archery practice, but he reminded her of a panther, all sleek and quick, rather than a bull or a bear. He wasn't running very fast, but he seemed tireless, able to keep up that steady pace all day, and they had already been out for two hours.

Elaina was a bit winded, for she wasn't quite as fit as Rafe, but she wouldn't admit it, otherwise he'd say I told you so, and she wanted to prove to him that she could be a good companion. She wiped some droplets of sweat off her brow as she jogged.

"You tired?" Rafe asked, slowing a little.

"No. You?"

Rafe shook his head. "No. But I'm used to this. You look a little flushed."

"It's hot out."

"Take a drink of water. I don't want you collapse."

Elaina scowled. "I'm not some namby-pamby miss, Rafe!"

"Don't be so prickly. You're not used to this heat, now drink some damn water, because if you pass out, I'm the one who's going to have to lug you home over my shoulder."

"You wouldn't _dare_! I'm not some . . . some wild cave woman!"

"Don't make me then. Take a drink, you stubborn snip."

Elaina uncapped her water bottle and drank. The water felt good going down her dry throat. She took another swallow.

"Okay, take it easy," Rafe said.

Elaina looked daggers at him. "First you tell me to drink, and now you're yelling at me to take it easy?"

"You want to be puking your guts up?" he asked. "Because you gulp down water like that and that's what's going to happen."

"Oh. You could have just said that."

"I did." He paused, listening for Rowan's bark. "Huh. Usually she's tracked something by now."

Just then they heard the hound's bay.

Rafe grinned. "Let's go, woods lady. She's got something."

They increased their pace.

Suddenly Elaina was glad she'd only taken a few mouthfuls of water, as it sloshed around uncomfortably in her stomach for a few moments.

The trail was dappled with sunlight and shadow, and they ran for a few moments without speaking, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

A few more yards down the trail and they heard Rowan's bugle again.

"She's getting close. You okay?" he asked, worried that he might be pushing her too hard.

"Fine. Just . . . a little winded," Elaina panted.

Rafe slackened the pace a little, he knew Rowan wasn't going to catch the deer yet, and he really didn't want Elaina fainting on him.

Finally they emerged into a small meadow, a place where sometimes deer came to feed. Rafe halted, letting them both catch their breath.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait for Rowan to bring the deer to us," Rafe answered, stringing his bow. He drew an arrow from his quiver, but didn't nock it yet.

"How will she know where we are?"

"She'll know. She's a smart dog," Rafe answered. "You'll see."

They waited for five minutes before they heard something running through the trees.

Elaina grabbed Rafe's arm. "What's that?"

"Probably the deer," he replied. Then he shook off her grip. "Get behind me."

Elaina obeyed, moving far enough away so she didn't risk getting shot.

Then they heard the thunder of hooves and a big buck with ten points on its rack came charging across the meadow. Flecks of foam flew from its mouth, and it bellowed slightly as it ran. About fifteen yards away was Rowan, her tongue hanging out, but still trailing the quarry. She threw up her head and bellowed.

Rafe waited until the buck was almost upon him before releasing his arrow.

The arrow struck true, and the deer suddenly stopped its mad dash, rearing up on its hind legs, the arrow lodged in its shoulder, just behind the muscle.

"Rafe!" Elaina hissed.

"It's a good shot, it just takes a bit for it to take effect," Rafe said. He drew another arrow and released it.

This one struck high up on the buck's neck, but it fell away when the animal shook its head.

It was panting, and Rafe could see it was weakening, but it was strong, and it snorted and lunged at him, its antlers stabbing at him.

Rafe dodged, and then Rowan was atop the deer, snarling and snapping at it, making it turn and try to impale her.

But the dog was fast, and avoided the deadly tines, falling to the ground and snapping at the buck's ankles, making it snort and dance, kicking out at her.

"Gods and hells!" Rafe swore, drawing the knife Bae had given him.

"What are you doing?" Elaina cried.

"Going to help my dog," he snapped, and then he sprang at the dying buck, trying to cut the big vein at its throat and end its suffering and fighting.

One quick slash and the buck went down, with Rowan worrying at its haunches.

Rafe drew back slightly, yelling, "Leave it, Rowan!"

The dog drew back.

Rafe watched as the deer spasmed, finally giving up. "Thank the forest gods for this game," he said, and bent to cut off a piece of hide and meat to offer to the gods of the forest.

As he did so, the buck jerked hard, its head coming off the floor in one last muscle spasm.

Elaina screamed, thinking the deer had somehow come back to life or something.

Rafe turned to reassure her, and one of the buck's legs kicked out, catching the archer on the leg and cutting a deep gash in it.

At first Rafe hardly felt anything, the hoof was razor-sharp. But then he stumbled and sank to the ground, his hand clamped about his lower leg. "Ahh! Damn it!"

"Rafe! What—oh gods, you're bleeding!" Elaina stared in horror as red blood pumped from his leg, staining the ground.

"Elaina, quick! Give me . . . something . . . to stop the bleeding . . ."

Elaina cursed the fact that she now wore boys clothes, because she had no petticoats to tear up. Instead she yanked off her boot and grabbed her sock. "Here. Let me see." She bent to tie the sock around his calf, which was soaked with blood.

He took the sock from her and pressed it to the wound, his eyes bright in his pale face. "Elaina . . . listen to me . . . you need to get help . . ."

"No! I won't leave you!"

"You have to! Now go!" he said, feeling lightheaded.

"All right. I'm going to get Papa and Bae. But I'll be back!" She turned and sprinted down the trail, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

Rafe felt himself sway and tried to press the sock more firmly to the wound. He knew he was bleeding badly, that he had to keep pressure on the wound, but it was hard . . . the world was spinning . . . and he felt himself spin with it . . . down into darkness . . .

Rowan came and thrust her cold nose into Rafe's face, whining. She licked his cheek when there was no response, then she howled loudly, knowing something was not right with her master.

Again and again she howled, while Rafe lay motionless beside her.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The dog's sharp howls echoed through the forest bringing small animals and something else to investigate.

Rowan jerked up, growling low in her throat as something slipped down from the trees and landed beside her and her injured master.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt him," said a quiet voice, then it spoke a few words in a silvery tongue and the dog whimpered and lay down.

Rafe opened his eyes, his vision was hazy and blurred. He saw a figure bending over him and whispered, "Elaina . . ."

"Shh. I'm a friend," said an unfamiliar-sounding voice. "Be still." The figure bent and tied the sock tightly about Rafe's calf, halting the bleeding. "There! Help is coming, I can hear them. I must go."

Rafe blinked and then he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Rowan stayed beside him, licking his hand, until Rumple and Bae arrived along with Elaina.

Rumple quickly picked up Rafe in his arms and said, "I have to get him back to the castle quickly. You two follow with the dog." Then he blinked away using his magic.

Rowan began barking and then started to run back down the trail, making Bae and Elaina scramble to keep up.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

By the time Rumple appeared inside the kitchen with Rafe, Belle had turned the table into a makeshift surgery ward, draping it with a clean sheet, having towels and scissors, needle and thread and sponges with vinegar on hand. She wore a clean apron and had scrubbed her hands and arms until they were red.

She ordered Ivy to keep the rest of the children occupied just as her husband returned.

"Put him down here, gently, Rum!" she ordered, fear filling her as she saw how pale and limp her eldest son was in his arms.

As Rumple set him down, she counted the pulse beats in his neck and put her hands on his chest. "He's in shock and he's lost a lot of blood," she said, then she concentrated, letting her touch flow through her son, trying to warm him and replenish some of the blood he lost. Only when she felt his heart start to even out did she turn to examine the wound in his leg.

She untied the makeshift bandage and hissed when she saw how deep the wound was. Luckily it hadn't cut a major artery, but it was still bleeding sluggishly and would need to be cleaned and stitched.

She pressed a clean towel to the wound, trying to staunch the blood.

"How bad is it?" Rumple asked.

"It's deep. He'll need a bunch of stitches and to stay off that leg for a week."

Just then Bae, Elaina, and Rowan burst into the room from the backdoor.

"Mom, how is he?" Elaina cried, rushing over to them.

Belle told her, then remove the towel she was holding on the wound. "It's stopping."

Suddenly Rafe opened his eyes. He blinked and looked around. "Elaina . . . where . . ."

"I'm right here, Rafe," Elaina said, taking his hand and squeezing it. "You're home."

Rafe heaved a sigh of relief. That figure . . . perhaps he hadn't imagined it after all.

"Rafe, stay still. I need to clean out this cut and sew it. Rum, do you have a potion you could give him?" Belle asked.

"Better, dearie. Let me numb it for you," answered the sorcerer.

He gently placed his hand over Rafe's leg and purple magic flickered across it.

Rafe sighed as the burning pain subsided. Then he squeezed Elaina's hand back and said, "Don't cry now, pretty girl. I'll be fine. It's just a flesh wound."

"That—that beast cut you open and you're _joking_ about it!" Elaina sniffled, tears pooling in her eyes.

Rafe turned his head towards her and said, "Hey, I'm still here, aren't I? And that's 'cause you went and got help."

"I . . . I shouldn't have screamed like that . . . it was my fault that thing kicked you," she whispered, guilt choking her. "Are you . . . in a lot of pain?"

"Nah. I can't feel anything," Rafe replied. It was true. He tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but Belle snapped at him to be still. "Okay, Mom. Sorry."

Belle quickly cleaned the gash and then she began to sew, keeping the stitches small and even.

While she did that, Rumple held Rafe's leg still.

Rafe reached out to caress Elaina's cheek, saying softly, "Don't blame yourself, Elaina. It was an accident. It happens all the time when you hunt. Sometimes your quarry kicks your ass just before it goes to the afterworld. I knew the risks, I've just been lucky till now."

"You . . . you were bleeding all over . . . I thought you were going to . . .die . . ."

"But you stopped the bleeding . . . I remember you tying up my leg . . ."

"When? I ran as fast as I could back home. When I left you were holding my sock on it. You must have tied it yourself."

"Nuh uh. I think I passed out. When I came to . . . I saw you standing there . . . least I think it was you . . . I was kind of out of it . . ."

"Maybe you're out of it now," Elaina mused. "How could I be in two places at once?"

"I know what I saw," Rafe argued. "Somebody tied that sock around my leg. Mom, didn't you find a sock around my leg?"

"Yes. Why?"

"See?"

"But Rafe . . . it wasn't me . . . I wasn't there . . . when I got back to you, you were passed out cold and . . . and the sock was already tied around your wound."

"What in hell?" the huntsman muttered. "Maybe I'm going mad. Because I swear I saw . . . and heard . . . someone . . ."

"Rafe, you should rest." Belle said, still sewing. "Rum, can you magic him?"

"Of course, dearie."

"Mom, I don't need . . ." Rafe began.

Then Rumple came around to his head and laid cool hands on his temples. "Hush, lad. Sleep."

Rafe immediately closed his eyes and slept.

"He'll be okay, won't he?" Elaina asked, sounding strained.

"Yes," Belle answered. "He just needs rest. That buck really cut him up. It took twenty-six stitches to close that wound," the Healer told her. She carefully spread some healing paste with honey and moss in it over the wound before wrapping it snuggly in a white bandage. "There! Bae, let's get him upstairs."

Bae lifted Rafe carefully in his arms and carried him upstairs, Rowan following him and Elaina, Belle, and Rumple as well.

Once they had settled him in bed, propping up his leg with some pillows, Belle said to Elaina, "You should get changed, honey. You've got blood all over you."

"Oh! I didn't even realize . . ."

"I know. Put those in to soak in the bathtub, then come down and have a cup of tea. We could both use it," Belle said, and hugged her.

"Okay," Elaina said, then she hurried over to her room to get out of her borrowed clothes and into her own, leaving faithful Rowan to sit beside Rafe's bed and watch him, resting her head on his chest, waiting patiently for him to wake.


	29. When the Circus Came to Town

**29**

**When the Circus Came to Town**

It was the strangest thing. In all of the worry and struggle to get Rafe home and healed, Bae and Elaina had forgotten about the dead buck and had left the carcass on the forest floor. It was only when Rafe asked who had taken the buck home the next day that Elaina recalled it. But by then she figured the buck was half eaten by wild beasts and she didn't know what to say to Rafe.

Until Bae, Jack, and Peter went out to do the morning chores and found the buck, neatly gutted and skinned, hanging in a tree near the smokehouse.

No one could figure out how it had gotten there. It was a mystery, just like the three arrows that had killed the goblins and Rafe's shadowy benefactor. But whoever had done it, the Golds were very grateful to him or her. Now they had venison steaks, roasts, ribs, and sausage for a long time. And Rafe's injury hadn't been for nothing after all.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rafe was almost healed and Phillip had another two weeks before he got his cast off when Rumple got a message from Jefferson on his mirror. "Hey, Rum! I finally had a chance to contact you, Regina's been keeping me jumping with all her demands and I haven't had a chance to breathe. I meant to talk to you a week ago, but then I got sidetracked with damn paperwork. I have some tickets for you, in honor of Belle's birthday."

"Hello, Jeff. I figured as much when you didn't call. It was Rafe's birthday too just after hers."

"Oh, well tell them both happy belated birthday from me and I'm sending you tickets to the circus, buddy. Enough for everyone."

"What circus?"

"The one that's coming over by Valley Way. It was up here two weeks ago and by now it ought to have reached there. I went with Alice, we had a real good time. We even took Snow with us. It was fun. I'm sending them to you by carrier pigeon, you should get them in a day or two. Anything new happening with you?"

"Well, actually there is. I'm going to be a father again," Rum answered.

Jefferson started laughing. "Oh, that's a good one, Rum. You're going to be a father again, haha—" Then he stopped in mid-laugh. "Gods and hells . . . you're serious. You mean . . .?"

"Belle's pregnant, yes," his best friend replied. "And we'd like you and Alice to be the baby's godparents. I never got the chance to ask you before Bae was born or Ivy either, but now . . ."

"I will, and thanks so much, Rum. Should I tell Alice? Her company's over here for another week or so before they move on."

"Yes, if you'd please," Rumple said. "I know Belle will want to speak with her soon, but she'll probably write her on her own."

"And how many will that make? Twenty-four?"

"Only nineteen, Jeff."

"_Only_ nineteen, he says. Rum, you practically have a merc company of your own!" Jeff chuckled. Then he sighed. "I'd better go. These days, Regina's been a bitch and the last thing I need is for her to get on my ass."

"Keep in touch, Jeff. And thank you for the tickets. I'm sure we'll enjoy them."

The mirror went dark and Rumple tucked it back inside his desk drawer and locked it. He would ask Belle, who was down in the village today, if she'd seen any signs for the circus, and when they knew it was here, they could plan when to go, once the tickets arrived. It would be a good family outing.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The signs for the circus, called _The Most Amazing Show Ever_, had gone up that day, and almost every patient Belle saw that day was talking about it. Such a thing hadn't come to Valley Way in over fourteen years, not since the show Kristen's family had run. So this was big news. It would run for two weeks and it started the first week of August, a few days away.

Belle wondered how much the tickets were and thought it would be a good opportunity for the family to do something fun and get out of the castle for a night or even two. Perhaps they could split it up, with half the family going one night and half the other? Then she shook her head, she didn't like doing that, because it could start quarrels. She would talk to Rumple about it tonight and see what he thought.

Hopefully, it was as good as the show Kristen's family used to have. Belle recalled that being a fine show, full of laughs and daring and amazing stunts with people and animals. Kristen had been in the act with her father and the three bears, and her mother had been a bareback rider.

Belle hoped that seeing this circus didn't bring back any bad memories for her daughter, but only happy ones.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Most of the children had never seen a circus before, and so were very excited when Rumple announced one would be coming to Valley Way and their Uncle Jeff had bought tickets for them all to see it.

"I hope there's an act with tigers and lions in it," said Jasmine, who loved the big cats and longed to see one again.

"I want to see the horses and those big spotted beasts, what are they called again, Kris?" asked Jack.

"Giraffes," answered Kristen.

"Yeah, those."

"I wanna see monkeys," said Nick.

"You are a monkey," Peter answered. "And you smell like one too."

"You don't even know if one does smell," Nick snapped.

"They do," answered Kristen. "Trust me."

"Will they have bears, like Baron?" asked Phillip.

"They could," she replied.

"How about dogs?" asked June.

"Or kitties?" Clary wanted to know.

"Dogs, yeah. But they can't really have cats perform, except for the big ones," Kristen told them. "But there'll be elephants, and sword-swallowers, fire-breathers, clowns, and trapeze artists."

"What's that?" asked Nora.

"Those're people who are like acrobats, only they can balance on wires and swing through the air on flying bars and do flips and stuff."

"Neat! Do they have magic?"

Kristen shrugged. "Maybe, but I never saw real magic until I met Papa. Most of the circus folk do tricks, like illusions and sleight of hand, not true magic."

"I heard they have cool treats to eat there," said Peter.

"Like spun sugar candy," Tom said.

"And ice cream."

"Lollipops."

"Kettle corn and honey roasted nuts," Jasmine said.

"And giant pretzels," Kristen recalled. "With cinnamon sugar."

"I'm getting hungry just thinking about it," Phillip said.

"Then you ought to eat your dinner," Belle told him.

"When are we going to the circus, Mom?" asked Clary.

"In a few days it'll be here, and then we can see it," Belle promised. "But for now, I want you to eat four bites of everything, Clary."

The little girl sighed. "Even the salad?"

"Yes. Eating greens helps you to grow big and strong," Belle said.

"I'd rather be little," Clary said stubbornly.

"Four bites, Clarissa. Or else no dessert," her father added.

Clary pouted, her lower lip sticking out.

"And you'll go to bed early," Belle said.

The little girl huffed. Then she reluctantly began to eat her salad.

When Nick and Peter giggled, Belle eyed them and said, "That goes for you too, boys. Nick, you need to eat all your lima beans, and Peter, I don't see any spinach on your plate."

Groaning, both boys took some of the vegetables.

"I thought we were gonna get away with it," whispered Nick.

"Fat chance!" Peter hissed. "Mom's got hawk eyes. She sees everything."

"Or like a bat," Nick refuted.

"Bats are blind, stupid," Peter snorted.

"Are not! They can see in the dark!" Nick argued.

"With sonar, not their eyes," Ivy corrected.

"What's that?" asked Nick.

"It's when they make weird clicking noises," Ivy answered. "Then they listen to them bounce back to them."

"That's cool! I wish I could see like a bat!" Phillip stated.

"I'll give you two black eyes, then you can try it," Nick suggested.

"I don't want to that bad!" Phillip said quickly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The Golds went to see the circus on the third night it opened, because Kristen said then it would be better, since the folk had time to polish their acts and see where they went wrong. They had three tents set up on the fair grounds, one huge one and the others had things like a bearded lady, the strong man, the snake charmer, and a three-eyed man.

The other tent sold refreshments and small toys and stuffed animals. Rumple and Belle had told the children they could each have a snack and the younger ones a toy if they wished.

Jack met Ray and his family there and the two boys and Tom went into the small tent to see strong man and other attractions.

As they were watching the snake charmer, who played a flute and made the cobra in a basket dance, Jack said, "Finn could do that, I'll bet."

"Easy as pie," Tom agreed.

Suddenly a tall man tapped Jack on the shoulder. "Hey, kid. How much you want for the mini man on your shoulder? We could use an act like him."

Jack turned and looked up at a man dressed in red and blue livery and scowled. "He's not a mini man, and he's not for sale. He's my brother!"

"Your brother?" the man sneered. "Come on, kid, I wasn't born yesterday."

"He's telling the truth," Ray spoke up. "Tom and Jack are brothers, they're the children of Rumplestiltskin Gold, the sorcerer in the Dark Castle."

As soon as Ray said that, the man shuddered and made a sign against evil. "Sorcerer's brats! We don't have any truck with their sort!" Then he scurried away.

"What a stupid ass!" Jack growled.

Tom sighed. "Some people will always think I'm some kind of freak."

"Well, you're not, and I'll punch out anybody that says so," Jack declared fiercely. "Let's go get some spun sugar candy. I'm hungry."

"Me too," said Ray and they left the tent, all of their pleasure spoiled. For now.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

They all met up at the big top around six o'clock, and Archie managed to sit by Aurora to watch the show. They held hands throughout the whole thing. It lasted about three hours and everyone was amazed at the way the trapeze artists flew and tumbled above the ground, awed at how Snaggle, the big cat trainer, made the panthers, leopards, and lions jump through hoops of fire and stand on top one another, and how graceful the bareback riders were. There were clowns and jugglers, a fire-eater, and a sword swallower. There was a parade that included giraffes, monkeys, zebras, camels, and even a small dragon and a unicorn.

There was even a dog act and everyone laughed at the clowns and monkeys, who seemed hardwired for ridiculous antics.

Jasmine was a bit disappointed that there were no tigers in the big cat act, and Phillip wanted to know where the bears were.

"Sometimes bears are hard to train," Kristen consoled him. "My dad had to work extra hard to teach Brownie, Baron, and her mate how to do tricks and obey him on command. So not every circus has them."

"I think yours was a bit better than this one," said Rennie loyally.

"Maybe," Kristen said diplomatically. She longed to go back and talk with the performers. Being here brought back a lot of old memories for her, hours of shining up harnesses for the horses, brushing out their manes and tails and braiding them, sewing trim on her own and her mother and dad's costumes, and even polishing their shoes for their acts. The smell of sawdust and the faint muskiness of the animals, grease paint, sweat, peanuts, and sweets brought it all back to her.

She felt a pang of loss in her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time. Once this had been her world, and she had lived to awe the crowds and make them gasp as she performed with her father and the three bears. They'd billed her as Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Recalling that made her get a lump in her throat.

She didn't miss the traveling around, the endless practice sessions, and the sometimes poor food, but she did miss her real parents at times, and the camaraderie of the other performers. She wondered if perhaps some of these performers remembered her mother, the graceful Lisle the Swan, bareback rider extraordinaire, and her father, Big Jake. _Maybe I can come back tomorrow, before the show, and talk to some of them, just to see if they remember._ She was content with her life now, as Kristen Gold, daughter of Belle and Rumplestiltskin, wielder of magic, but she couldn't resist one last glimpse into the world she had lost. It was almost like jiggling a loose tooth, you knew you should leave it be, but you kept touching it anyway.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Half the children were sleepy and somewhat cranky when they arrived back at the castle, making Rum and Belle put them right to bed. Kristen got into her nightgown and brushed her teeth when it was her turn to use the green bathroom, but she lay awake for a long while before falling asleep that night.

And when she did fall asleep, she dreamed of standing atop Brownie's shoulders and waving, while her father bowed to the audience in the ring below her. She woke up still hearing the applause of the crowd in her ears and it took forever for her to fall asleep again.

That morning, after she had helped with chores, Kristen decided to pay a visit to the performers. As usual, Baron accompanied her. Normally, Kristen didn't take the bear into the village, because he scared some people, but circus folk wouldn't be petrified the way ordinary ones were, and Baron was, after all, a trained performer himself, or he had been once.

As she approached the line of wagons, nostalgia hit her again, and she paused to soak up the summer sun and the breeze that brought with it the smell of strong coffee, bacon, griddle cakes, salt, sawdust, and animal dung. She knew that most of the performers would be rising now, eating and practicing their acts for the next show, or feeding their animals.

Patting Baron's shoulder, she had the bear kneel and climbed on him. He hadn't been big enough to do this when she'd been in her father's act, but he was now. She rode him calmly into the circle of wagons and tents, looking for the most ostentatious or rich-looking wagon, which would belong to the ringmaster and owner of the show.

Some of the roustabouts and carneys spotted her and raised an eyebrow at her unorthodox transportation, but none of them tried to stop her. In fact, one of them ran up the steps to a large house painted in gaudy red with gold and blue trim and banged on the door.

"Hey, Master Sully, take a look at what the wind blew in!"

"What do you want now, Ethan? I thought I told you to leave me be until after breakfast," came a deep voice from inside the wagon.

"But you'll want to see this, sir!"

A tall man wearing blue trousers and a fine cream silk shirt stuck his head out of the door, scowling. He had a thin pencil-point mustache waxed until it gleamed and dark hair that Kristen was almost sure he colored with boot black, an old trick to make it thick and shiny, or appear that way.

He glanced irritably about, then he saw Kristen atop Baron and he whistled. "Hey, girlie, you looking for a job?"

Kristen tapped Baron, signaling for him to stop, and said, "No, sir. I'm not in the business any more, but I was once. Maybe you'll remember me. Once I was Kristen Swenson, my parents were owners of their own circus, called _The Best Show in the Realms_. Their names were Jake and Lisle Swenson, or Big Jake and Lisle the Swan. I was Goldilocks and I used to be in an act with three bears with my father. This was one of them, Baron."

Sully stepped out onto the porch and eyed her up and down. "Now that you mention it . . . this would be some years ago, right? There was a fire and someone was careless, right? Everything burned, save for a few of the folk and some of the animals."

"Yes, that's right. Then you do remember!"

"Of course I do. I was the one who bought the remainder of what was left. But I thought the Swenson girl had died in the fire along with her parents. How did you escape, Goldilocks?"

"I was taking a walk in the woods nearby with Baron," Kristen said. "By the time I saw the fire it was too late and . . . they were gone. So they sent me and Baron to Shoe House, the local orphanage. Then I was adopted by Healer Belle Avonlea, only she's Belle Gold now since she remarried."

"I see. And that bear . . . he used to be in the circus?"

"Uh huh. He was part of my act—Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Only he was a baby then."

Sully frowned, getting a strange look in his eye. It was almost like jealousy and almost like greed and suddenly Kristen didn't like the way he was eying her at all. "Why are you here now, girlie? Come back to rejoin your roots, you and the bear?"

Kristen shook her head. "No, sir. I just wanted . . . that is . . . I only wanted to talk to another performer . . . for old time's sake . . ."

"You know, when I purchased what remained of your parents' show, I signed a contract that stated that everything left would belong to me," Sully said, licking his lips.

"What of it, sir?"

"That bear you have, missy, belongs to me," Sully stated.

"What? No, you're wrong! Baron is mine. My dad gave him to me on my last birthday," Kristen cried.

"Can you prove it, girlie?" Sully demanded, his eyes hard. He needed a new act for his show, something to draw in fresh revenue, and this bear seemed like the ticket he'd been looking for. If he could get the girl to give him up.

Kristen stared at him. Her only proof now was her word. Everyone that could have backed her up was dead and gone. "I . . . I . . ." she stuttered, suddenly regretting she'd ever come here.

Then, as so often happened when she grew nervous now, her magic flared up, and she felt her hands suddenly shift into brown-furred paws, like that of a bear. Panicking, she tried to shift back, but it was difficult for her to control her power, and her hands remained bear's paws . . . and visible to Sully.

Sully gasped and his mouth curled in distaste. "What are you, girlie, some kind of witch? A beast in human shape?"

Kristen shrank from him. She had never been the object of such revulsion before and it stung. "I'm not a beast! I . . . just have magic. I'm a shifter."

Sully made a sign to ward off evil. "Beast magic! Unclean! Get off this land, beast girl! Before I drive you out," he spat. "And leave the bear, he's my property."

"Baron is mine! You have no right!" Kristen shouted, horrified.

"I have a deed that says otherwise. If you don't give me that bear by sunset tomorrow, I'll bring you before a magistrate, beastly girl! They'll lock you up for stealing and that bear will be mine. Now what's it to be?"

"I'm no thief! You are, you slimy snake!" Kristen yelled. She heeled Baron and the bear spun about, snarling softly. "Go, Baron! Go home!"

"Come back here, you little witch! I could have you arrested! And I will, unless you bring that bear to me before sundown tomorrow!" threatened Sully, shaking his fist at her. "And don't think you can hide from me either!"

Panicked, Kristen urged Baron to a lope and shot out of the camp, clinging as best she could to the agitated bear.

"Why did I ever go there?" she moaned, half-sick with the knowledge that he could take Baron, her best friend, from her. "Why?"

They reached the Dark Castle and Kristen slid from Baron's back, trembling, her hands still bear paws and her eyes leaking tears. She couldn't believe how a simple visit could have gone so wrong.

She saw Belle and Rennie working in the herb garden and she rushed over to them.

"Mom! Mom! He . . . he wants to take Baron away, and I ain't gonna let him!" she sobbed.

"Kristen! What on earth is the matter?" Belle said, upon seeing her daughter. "Who's going to take Baron?"

Kristen flung her arms about Belle's middle and clung to her as if she were six again. "The . . . the circus owner . . . he . . . he said he had a paper . . . that Baron belonged to him and . . . he was . . . was going to arrest me . . . for stealing him!"

She began bawling just like Clary, unable to help herself.

"Kris, calm down!" Belle soothed, holding her daughter. "Whoever he is, he can't take Baron away without proof. And what happened to your hands?"

Kristen shook and finally managed to say, "My . . . magic . . . I can't make my hands turn back . . ."

"That's because you're nervous, sweetie. Let's go find your father. Rum will fix this." Belle said, and she wasn't speaking of just Kristen's hands.

She led the distraught child inside, where they found Rumple playing a game of chess with Tom.

"Rum," Belle began.

"Hey, what happened with your hands?" Tom queried.

Kristen suddenly released Belle and ran over to Rumplestiltskin. "Papa! You've got to help me! I never should have gone there, but now Sully says he owns Baron and he's going to take him away and I can't shift my hands back and he . . . he called me a . . . beast girl and said my . . . magic was . . . evil!"

Rumple immediately took her by the shoulders and said softly, "Who said that, Kris? Nobody calls my daughter an evil beast!"

"His n-name's Sully, Papa, and he . . . he owns the circus down near the village."

"Just a minute, dearie. You can explain everything to me, but give me your hands first."

Kristen did so.

"Now, I want you to close your eyes and concentrate. I'll help you," Rum said, taking her transformed hands in his own.

"I . . . I can't!"

"Yes, you can. Breathe, Kris. Like I taught you. Remember? We'll do it together," Rumple encouraged. "One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . ."

The two magic wielders began to breathe in tandem, and suddenly Kristen's bear paws flickered in Rumple's and slowly changed back to her human hands.

"All right. Now I need you to sit down, dearie, and tell me everything that scoundrel said," her father said, his eyes going dark. "And what was his name again?"

"Sully," Kristen said, sitting down next to him. She described what he looked like and was about to tell Rumple what she had said to him when Tom cried out.

"Wait a minute! Was he a tall man?"

"Pretty much so, why?"

"Because a man like that . . . he tried to get Jack to sell me to him last night, before the show. He . . . he thought I was . . . a freak or something."

"That opportunistic bastard!" Rumple swore.

"Rum, watch your mouth!" Belle reproved.

"Sorry, but people like him make me want to turn them into snails and step on them," her husband sighed. "Go on, Kristen."

Kristen told him everything, tearing up again as she did so.

Rumple patted her hand gently. "Don't worry, dearie. He might think he can swindle you, but he's got another think coming if he wants to match wits with me."

"But . . . but he says he has a deed that proves he owns Baron, Papa!"

"Humph!" Rumple snorted. "He may have one, but I'd wager that deed is as false as leprechaun gold. I doubt very much it'll stand up in a real court."

"He says if I don't give Baron to him by sundown tomorrow he'll arrest me," Kristen said, sniffling.

"I'd like to see him try!" Tom said stoutly. "Papa will magic his butt all the way to the Enchanted Forest."

"I could, but why give him the chance to do anything? If he wants a trial, then by all the gods, let's give him one."

"But . . . can we win?" Kristen asked.

"Dearie, that man's a bigger liar than Hook, and I haven't met a scoundrel yet that I couldn't best in a deal . . . or in a courtroom," Rumplestiltskin assured her. "You'll see. No one's taking Baron away . . . and no one insults my daughter and gets away with it either." And there was something in the quiet tone of his voice that sent a shiver down Kristen, Belle, and Tom's spines.

**A/N: Now who thinks that Sully is in REAL trouble now?**


	30. Gold vs Sully

**30**

**Gold vs. Sully**

Of course, once her older brothers and sisters heard about what Sully threatened, they were ready to pulverize the ringmaster. "I say we put him up against a wall and use him for target practice," Rafe snapped. "Then at least we'd get some use out of him."

"Or I could make him into animal chow," Finn suggested. "A few notes on my flute and all those cats would be willing to look at him as dinner. The nerve of that guy, calling you beastly, Kris."

"And thinking Tom was for sale too!" added Aurora indignantly. "We don't have slavery here."

While her siblings defense of her made her feel somewhat better, it still didn't alleviate Kristen's worry about Sully snatching Baron. That night, she had the bear sleep in her room, when he usually slept on the hearth downstairs.

Ariel didn't mind, however, in fact she sang a song to make her sister sleep without dreams, knowing how upset she was. Then she went to sleep herself, though she was woken up in the middle of the night by Baron grunting and snorting.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

After all the children were asleep, Belle and Rumple discussed how they were to proceed with the court case. It had been decided that Rumple would speak with the magistrate, Henry Midas, and bring charges of harassment and forgery against Sully before Sully had a chance to accuse Kristen of stealing Baron. Rumple knew that as a prosecutor he would have a better chance of presenting Sully's claim as false, since most of the proof would rest on him.

"We need a way to prove Kristen's ownership of Baron," Rumple mused as he and Belle lay together in bed.

"But how? Her parents are dead and all we have is her word," Belle said, frowning.

Rumple sat up and put his chin in his hand. "Hmm. Is there . . . anything you can remember being written up when the orphans came to Shoe House? Like records of adoption, that kind of thing?"

"Yes, I think Aunt Miranda kept them in her strong box. I can look in there tomorrow, and see. It was a big iron bound box, filled with papers on each of the orphans in her care and the circumstances in which they came to her."

"Good. That can prove that Kristen is who she says she is. I wonder if her parents filed any sort of records with the village alderman, like permits to camp outside it and that sort of thing? Maybe they even filed a copy of their deed, if we're lucky. Then we can prove Sully's forgery easily."

"And if not?" Belle queried.

"I can prove he's a fake without it, dearie. Trust me. No one knows contracts like a sorcerer, when any deal we write binds us. I've studied them for years and can tell a real document from a false one. As well as signatures."

"I hope so, Rum. It would kill poor Kristen to lose Baron now. That bear is the only thing she has left of her former life, it was the last gift her father gave her before he died."

"She won't lose him, dearie. I know Sully's kind, he can cheat helpless little girls, but his story won't hold water against someone who knows contracts and forgeries. He thinks he's smart, but he's as crooked as a mountain road. With the right kind of evidence, we can prove it."

Belle hugged him. "Thank goodness I married a smart man this time around!"

"And I married a smart woman, beloved." He kissed her leisurely. "Maybe we ought to go to sleep now. We can go into the village tomorrow and see what we can find."

"Sounds good," Belle agreed, then she curled up next to her husband, and fell asleep with her head on his shoulder, listening to the echo of his heartbeat.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, both Belle and Rum went down into the village, Belle to Shoe House to look up records and Rum went first to the magistrate and then to Geppetto, who, as the town alderman, was responsible for all official records of any of the villagers and those who needed permission, like the circus folk, to do business with them.

As Belle walked towards her office, Archie spotted her and trotted up to her. "Good morning, Healer Belle!"

"Morning, Archie," she greeted the copper-haired youth.

"You're opening up the office early, aren't you?" he queried.

"No. Actually, I'm going there to look up some old records," Belle explained, and she told Archie what had happened.

"That's awful! I knew that man was dishonest the moment I laid eyes on him," Archie declared. "He reminded me of the way my dad looks when he pulls scams, that big false smile to your face, while all the while he's plotting how to take your money. I know that ringmaster's sort all right!"

"I'm sure you do," Belle said. "Would you help me get the box, please? It's rather heavy.

"Sure I will," Archie said, and they walked companionably to Shoe House.

Once they arrived there, Belle went to the closet where she kept the strong box on a shelf. Together, she and Archie tugged it down and carried it to the table in the kitchen.

Then Belle opened it with a key she wore on a ring on her belt. The pages and envelopes inside were musty and yellowed with age, but still legible. Belle began going through them while Archie sat to one side and watched her.

After about five minutes, Belle took an envelope labeled _Kristen Swenson_ in Miranda's handwriting from the box.

"Find something?" asked Archie.

"Yes, I think so," Belle said, and opened the envelope. She slid out the papers inside and began to read. "Ah, these are Miranda's records of when Kristen arrived at Shoe House. They are dated and tell exactly where Kristen came from, what belongings she had with her, and how old she was when she arrived here."

"It's good she kept such records," Archie remarked.

"Yes, and everyone knew my aunt, and how upright and honest she was," Belle said, tucking the papers back inside the envelope. She locked up the strong box and Archie helped her return it to the closet.

Then she made some hot cocoa and had some with her unexpected helper while waiting for Rum to arrive and see what he had found out.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

After filing his suit against Sully with Henry, setting the court date for the next morning, giving himself time to find documents if possible, Rumple went and knocked on Geppetto's door.

Geppetto, in addition to being alderman, was also a woodcarver of much renown. Some years ago, he'd come to Rumplestiltskin and asked him for a magical favor—he wanted a son, but was too old to marry, so he had carved a puppet out of wood, and wished Rumple to enchant it and make it live. Rum had explained that magic didn't work that way. "I can spell the puppet to become animate—to walk, talk, and that kind of thing, but only one thing can give this puppet feelings and a heart, Geppetto. And that is love. You must love this puppet boy with all of your heart and then he will become real, and not just an animate wooden boy. Can you do this?"

"Yes, if only you will help me by making him partially real," the woodcarver said.

So Rumple had given him a special potion to anoint the puppet with for three days and nights and instructed Geppetto to sleep with the wooden boy close to his heart and only if his love was strong enough, would the puppet become real.

Geppetto's love had been strong enough, and after three days, the wooden boy had become a real one, about four years old, called Pinocchio. That had been three years ago.

Now, when Rumple knocked on Geppetto's door, it was opened by Pinocchio, now seven, a curly-haired lad dressed in a blue jacket, black breeches, a white shirt and a smart blue felt cap. "Hello, Pinocchio. Is your father at home?"

"Rumplestiltskin!" the boy exclaimed. He sometimes saw the sorcerer around the village, and Geppetto had told him many times that he owed the sorcerer a great debt. "He brought you to me, and for that I can never repay him, so you be polite and speak respectfully to him or his children when you meet them," Geppetto had instructed. And Pinocchio obeyed. "Come in, sir! Papa's in his workshop. I'll get him for you."

Rumple stepped into the small cottage and waited while Pinocchio scurried through a door and yelled, "Papa! Master Gold is here to see you!"

Soon Geppetto emerged from the woodshop, doffing his cap at the sorcerer. "Rumplestiltskin, you honor my humble home. Pinocchio, where's your manners? Go and put the kettle on for tea. Please, come and sit down. We'll have some tea and biscotti, yes, my friend?"

"Geppetto, there's no need to—"

"Yes, there is! Come, sit!" the woodcarver urged, and soon had the sorcerer sitting at his kitchen table, while Pinocchio set two cups, spoons, and small plates in front of them, and then set out a plate and cup for himself and a small saucer of cream for Figaro, their black and white kitten.

Soon the woodcarver had made a pot of tea and poured some for all of them, and Pinocchio had fetched some almond biscotti from the cupboard and put it before his father and their guest.

Once he had drunk some tea and politely eaten a biscotti, Rumple said, "I thank you for your hospitality, Geppetto, but I would like to ask if you'd open the records hall for me. There may be something inside I need."

"Whatever I can do for you, Rum, I will," Geppetto declared. "What are you looking for?"

Rumple explained what he wished to search for and Geppetto nodded and said, "I can help you more, old friend. I can look myself for any records pertaining to that circus and your little girl. I will be able to locate them much faster than you as I know that place like the back of my hand. While I am doing that, you may wait here with my son."

"As you wish, and thank you," the sorcerer said.

Geppetto put on his coat and rushed out the door to the records building, which was in the center of the village, next to the courthouse.

While Geppetto was gone, Pinocchio began to talk to Rumple. "I'm old enough to go to school this year," he declared. "I could have gone last year, but Papa said to wait. But now he says I can go to the village school like everyone else!"

"Good. You'll probably be in my daughter June's class, or perhaps with my youngest son, Phillip," Rumple said. "It's his first time starting school too. He's six, but will be seven in the fall, just after school starts."

Pinocchio smiled. "I'd like to meet him, sir."

"Then tell your papa to have you come up to the castle sometime, and you can play with Phillip," invited Rumple. "He'd enjoy playing with someone his own age, instead of his older brother and sisters."

"Me too!" Pinocchio said eagerly. "I'll tell Papa as soon as he comes home."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

It took Geppetto about half-an-hour to return, and he had two documents with him. One was an official permit for the owners of _The Best Show in the Realms_ to stay on the fair grounds for the duration of three weeks while they were performing. It was signed by both Lisle and Jake Swenson. The other document, however, was even more interesting. It was a will, specifically Jake Swenson's will, which he had left with Geppetto for safekeeping.

When Rumple read it, he nearly grinned from ear to ear. "Thank you, old friend! This is just what I needed. With this, that scoundrel Sully won't have a leg to stand on."

Geppetto beamed. "Always happy to help, Rumplestiltskin! I hope all goes well with the court case."

"You should come and watch it," the sorcerer said.

"Maybe I will," the woodcarver said.

"Now, I must be off. Belle is waiting for me and I must plan my case. I shall see you later," the sorcerer said.

As he departed, Pinocchio said, "Papa! Master Gold said I could go up to the castle sometime and play with his son Phillip. May I?"

"If that is what you wish, Pinocchio, then yes," his father agreed. "I think it would be good for you to be with other boys your age, and I know Master Gold and Mistress Belle will look after you. Perhaps you can visit this weekend. We shall see, eh? Now, let's clean up and then I have to get back to work."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple met Belle at Shoe House and showed her the documents Geppetto had obtained for them. Together with Miranda's records, Rum felt confident he could present enough evidence to get Sully thrown out of the courtroom, if not locked up outright for trying to swindle a little girl out of sheer mean-spirited avarice.

When they told Kristen that they had evidence to support her claim, she looked ready to burst into tears. Instead she hugged them both. "When I went there, I had no idea that man would try and take Baron from me. I just wanted to share some stories about the time I was a performer. And he . . . he spit on me like I had some disease when he . . . found out I was a shifter. He made me feel . . . like I was dirt. Nobody's ever done that to me before."

Belle cupped her daughter's chin in her hand. "Kris, some people are ignorant and stupid, they will always assume things about you, things that are untrue and cruel. You have to learn not to let it get to you. Your magic makes you special."

"Your mother is right, dearie. Sully is nothing but an opportunistic lying windbag, whose scheming is going to come back and bite him in the backside. Your magic is a Gift, and you should never let anyone make you feel less because of it. People like Sully fear what they can't understand, and magic is beyond their feeble brains. So they call you names to make themselves feel better, like they're someone important, when all they are is ignorant idiots who wouldn't know class if it jumped up and bit their nose off. Don't let him get you down. You're a beautiful smart magical child, and he's jealous as hell of that."

Then he bent and kissed her on the forehead. "Now, go on up to bed, Kris. Tomorrow we'll have the trial and surprise the pants off that scheming scoundrel. We'll show him that nobody messes with a Gold."

Kristen grinned at him. "I'm glad you're my papa."

"As I'm glad you're my daughter. Now scoot!" He sent her off with a gentle swat. Then he turned to Belle and said heatedly, "People like Sully disgust me. His prejudice against the magic born could have seriously hurt her, made her doubt herself and hate her talent. It makes me want to take that lying wretch and change him into a rug and beat him."

"You and me both!" Belle agreed. "Taking advantage of a child that way. It makes me wish I had magic enough to change him into a beetle and step on him."

"Well, we're going to show him up tomorrow in court. Just you wait."

"The morning can't come quick enough, love. I want to see that scum crawl out of that courtroom like a whipped dog," Belle said hotly.

"Perhaps you will, dearie," Rumple smirked.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning arrived, and all of the Gold family, dressed to impress, converged on the courthouse. Kristen had her hair arranged by Elaina to fall in soft curls all over her head, and be partially caught up with a blue ribbon that matched her eyes and blue frock. The simple yet elegant blue dress made her look innocent and sweet, like the child she was, and not like the beast-girl Sully was trying to paint her as.

It was decided to leave Baron at the castle, as it would cause too much of a stir to bring him along, and then worry about someone getting hysterical or one of Sully's men trying something with him.

Rumple rented three carriages again to bring them down to the courthouse, so they arrived promptly and without mussing their fine clothes, which were the ones they had all worn to his and Belle's wedding, as they were their best set available. The children had strict instructions to behave in court and not cause a ruckus, and they promised their parents they would do so.

As prosecutor and also his own attorney, Rumple would use Kristen and Belle as witnesses to prove his case, along with the documents he'd gathered. Unlike most cases, this one would not have a jury, but the magistrate would act as final arbitrator, hearing both sides of the case. But the trial would, as all trials, be open to the public, so the villagers could come watch the proceedings along with the Gold family if they chose.

The courthouse was a long room divided down the middle by an aisle. To either side was the gallery where visitors sat on long low benches. A wooden partition separated the gallery from the bar, where the accused was brought in, the jury sat, and the tall lectern where the magistrate sat. Two tables and two chairs were positioned to either side of the magistrate's seat today. The jury benches remained empty and bailiffs took up posts one on either side of the magistrate's chair to maintain order if necessary.

Rumple led Kristen over to the right of the two tables and they sat down. He carried a leather satchel in his hand, which contained the precious documents, which he would submit to Judge Midas at the proper time.

As they were sitting down, Sully walked into the courtroom. He was wearing a flamboyant outfit of red and blue spangles with a ruffled shirt and his hair shone black as night, as did the ends of his curling mustache. He walked over and took the seat on the table to the left. He carried a leather case in one hand, and when he saw Kristen he smiled and said, "Girlie, this case will be open and shut, and that bear is mine."

Kristen shuddered, but before she could reply, Rumple did. He put an arm around her and said coldly, "Don't speak to my daughter, Master Sully. If you have something to say, you deal with me. I don't frighten as easily as twelve-year-old-girls."

Sully's lip curled. "I've heard of you, sorcerer that spins straw into gold!" he sneered. "Well, not even that's going to save you, you filthy conjurer! I have right on my side, as you'll see."

Rum's eyes flashed and suddenly the temperature in the courthouse plummeted a good twenty degrees. "What you have, Sully, is pure blind luck. But your luck's about to run out, ringmaster. Not all your tricks and scheming will save _you_ from my justice, dearie."

Sully shifted, suddenly losing the arrogant self-confidence in his bearing. "If you curse me, sorcerer—"

Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "Please, Sully, don't make me laugh! If I wanted to curse you, I'd have done so last night, after you terrorized my child. That's what you hoped I'd do, wasn't it? So you could point a finger at the evil sorcerer and cry foul play. But that would be too easy. I want to prove something to you, and to anyone who watches these proceedings. There's something we magic wielders call karma, or the law of three. And it states one simple truth—that what you do comes back threefold. Do evil and evil shall come back to you, but do good and good things shall come your way. I teach that law to all my students. Now they'll get to see that law in action, as justice comes to claim you at last. It's far more satisfying that turning you into an ant and stepping on you, though I considered that last night quite carefully."

Sully gulped, then glared at him in sheer bravado. "You should have been driven from here with stones and swords years ago, Dark One! You and your brood of witches and warlocks aren't fit to live among decent people!"

"Now that's the pot calling the cauldron black if I ever heard it," Rumple sneered. "For you are no better than a common swindler, preying on innocent children. By the end of this trial, Sully, folk will see you for what you truly are . . . and then we'll see who gets driven out."

By then most of the villagers who were going to watch the trial had come in, including Archie, Geppetto and Pinocchio, Big Hans, Mike the barkeep, Mistress Pelham the baker, Jared the jeweler, and several others. They filled the gallery and muttered softly to themselves and glared at Sully, because while some of them didn't trust Rumplestiltskin all that much, he was their sorcerer, and Sully was naught but a pompous outsider.

A door opened at the back of the podium where the magistrate sat and a tall lanky man walked in and said loudly, "Attention, good people! The court is now in session. Hear now the case of Gold vs. Sully, the Honorable Judge Midas presiding! All rise!"

As everyone stood, Judge Henry Midas walked into the room and took his place at the high desk. He wore black robes and his white hair curled gently over his ears. He was a tall spare man in his fifties, with a lean intelligent face and large gray eyes. He had been a circuit magistrate for Valley Way and five other nearby villages for years, traveling to them to hear cases and dispense the king's justice. Now he was too old to ride all over, so he stayed put in Valley Way, and dispensed justice for the villagers and anyone nearby who wished to petition him.

He came and sat down at his podium. "You may be seated. I now call this court to order." He brought his gavel down sharply, and everyone sat down. He looked at Rumplestiltskin. "Archmagus Gold, since you have brought a suit against Master Sully for harassment and intimidation of a minor, specifically your daughter, you may begin with your opening statement."

Rumple rose and made his way in front of the tables, walking carefully with his gold topped cane. Then he turned and faced the gallery and began to speak.

"It is my intention to show that Master Sully, owner of the circus that currently resides outside on our fair grounds, is a conniving scheming man who seeks to take advantage of an innocent child by claiming that which he has no right to—namely my daughter's pet black bear, called Baron. I shall prove with expert testimony and documentation that Sully has no right to the bear, and has indeed forged a deed to facilitate his deception for his own ends. It is up to Judge Midas, in his wisdom, to bring this case to a fair and quick jurisdiction."

Rumple then bowed and sat down.

Judge Midas then called Master Sully for his opening statement.

Sully rose and, casting a disparaging glance at both Kristen and Rumplestiltskin, began to speak. "Your Honor and good people, for many years I have run my show fairly, and have endeavored to give the public my best performances. But recently I learned that I was cheated of certain property of mine, the bear the sorcerer mentioned, and I aim to get what is mine back again, as is only proper. The girl is in possession of the animal illegally, and according to the law, the animal belongs to me, as rightful claimant of all remnants of the former circus known as _The Best Show in the Realms._ I shall prove this beyond the shadow of a doubt, and then everyone shall see that this Gold sorcerer is the liar here and ought to be driven away from all decent folk."

Sully gave a rather florid bow and sat down as well.

"Archmagus Gold, you may call your first witness," said the magistrate.

Rumple stood, and walked over to the witness box, which stood to the right of Judge Midas' podium. "I call Miss Kristen Amber Swenson Avonlea to the stand, Your Honor." He would have preferred to add his own surname to hers, but since legally he had not adopted her, he could not do so. Even so, he knew all present knew she was his daughter by marriage, his child in all ways save blood, as were all Belle's children.

Kristen rose and walked over to the witness box and went inside of it.

Judge Midas, normally stern and inflexible as tempered steel, looked at the child beside him and quirked a faint smile. "Young lady, I want you to raise your right hand and swear by the gods of truth and justice to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

Kristen swore, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

"Archmagus, your witness."

Rumple looked at Kristen and said softly, "Kristen, I want you to tell the judge and those present what exactly happened the day when you left the castle and encountered Master Sully there. Don't be afraid to tell the truth, dearie, he can't hurt you."

Kristen began to speak, softly at first, then louder, telling Midas and everyone how she had gone over to Sully's encampment hoping to speak to some performers who recalled her dead parents and talk with them about their show. "All I wanted was to share some memories, not to brag or anything, and certainly not to have Master Sully accuse me of being a thief and try to take Baron away from me. You have to understand, sir, that Baron's not just a pet to me, he's my friend. My dad, Big Jake Swenson, bought him and his parents when he was just a cub. I grew up with him, we were in the same act together, and he was almost like a member of my family. When I lost my folks in the fire, Baron was the only thing I had to remember them by, since he was with me when the fire started, and he was also the last gift I'd ever gotten from my dad Jake. Baron didn't belong to the show, like all the other animals, he belonged to me. Master Sully's wrong. I told him so, but he just laughed at me and threatened to arrest me. He said Baron was stolen property, sir."

Rumple looked at Sully and shook his head. "Such a thing, to accuse an innocent child of stealing the bear who had been her only companion. Kristen, what else did Master Sully say to you when you told him that Baron belonged to you?"

Kristen gulped. Then she said gamely, "He said that I was . . . was a . . . a beast girl and unclean. Because I've got magic. I'm a shapeshifter and my papa, Rumplestiltskin, found that out when he met me after he married my adopted mom, Belle. He's been teaching me how to control my magic, but sometimes, when I get nervous, I can change parts of myself. That day, I changed my hands into a bear's paws and got so nervous after Sully threatened to take Baron that I couldn't change back. Master Sully saw and he . . . he called me a beast and said to get out of his camp and he would arrest me if I didn't give Baron to him."

"Did he say anything about how he would prove to you that he had a right to take Baron, dearie?" Rumple queried.

"Yes, sir. He said that he had paper that would prove he inherited my parents' circus, what was left of it, and that included Baron."

"Were you frightened of Master Sully, Kristen?"

Kristen nodded. "I was. He shouted at me and he acted like I was nothing to him. Especially after he saw that I had magic. I just wanted to run away after he told me he was going to take Baron away. And I did."

"No further questions, Your Honor." Rumple said and then went to sit down.

"Master Sully, do you have questions for the witness?" asked the judge.

Sully stood up and walked over near Kristen. He eyed the little girl and then said, with a faint sneer in his voice, "Don't pretend you're innocent with me, girlie, for we both know you're not."

"Master Sully, you will address the witness as Miss Avonlea, not girlie," Judge Midas corrected sternly. "She is a child, but still deserving of respect."

"She's a thief, sir!"

"That has yet to be proven, but even so, you are in my courtroom now, and you shall address the witness respectfully, Master Sully, or else I shall hold you in contempt. Am I clear?"

Sully gulped, for the look Midas was giving him was not friendly at all. "Yes, Your Honor."

"Continue."

Sully turned back to Kristen. "As I was saying, I had you pegged from the first moment I saw you with that bear as a thief, g—err . . . Miss Avonlea. You say you only came to talk with my performers, but I say you came to gloat over having made off with a prize animal, is that not so?"

"No, sir. I didn't even know you were the one who had . . . umm . . . repossessed my parents' circus until you said so. I brought Baron because he usually goes where I do, except not to the village, cause some people are scared of him, even though he's tame as a kitten. I thought you might like to see him. I didn't realize you'd try and steal him!"

"Me, steal him! As I told you before, I have a deed that gives me the right to all your dead parents' property, up to and including that bear! And you're going to give him to me!" Sully blustered.

"Master Sully, do not shout at the witness!" snapped Judge Midas. "We're none of us deaf, we can all hear you."

"Forgive me, Your Honor. But this matter is very . . . aggravating to me. This girl's claims are ridiculous and anyone can see that she is lying."

"I am not! I swore an oath to tell the truth!" Kristen objected.

"All children lie to get themselves out of trouble," Sully dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

"It isn't polite, sir, to assume I'm lying just because you don't like to hear what I'm saying," Kristen said indignantly.

"How do I even know that you are who you claim?" Sully demanded. "You and that sorcerer you call your papa could have cooked this whole thing up between you to discredit me. I was told that the Swenson girl died along with her parents in the fire. How do I know that you are who you say you are?"

"Because I don't lie, Master Sully. And my adopted mother has proof," Kristen said. Her nails were digging into her palms as she spoke, but she refused to cower in front of this . . . pompous ass. Rumple had promised her that Sully couldn't hurt her, and she believed him.

Sully was redfaced with temper and he turned to the magistrate and said, "Your Honor, may I submit my deed as proof that I have ownership of the bear?"

"You may," the judge said. "Have you any further questions for Miss Avonlea?"

"No, sir." Sully went and took the deed and handed it to Judge Midas.

"You may step down, Miss Avonlea," Midas said kindly.

Kristen hopped down and went back to sit next to Rumple.

He squeezed her hand and said, "You did beautifully, Kristen."

The judge looked up and said, "Are there any more witnesses in this case?"

Rumple stood. "There are, Your Honor. I would call Lady Belle Avonlea Gold to the stand."

Belle rose, and handing Clary over to Bae, walked up to the witness stand and entered it. She was sworn in and then Rumple said, "My lady wife, please tell the court your occupation and what relationship you are to Kristen."

Belle cleared her throat, then answered, "I am a Healer, as all of you here know. But before that I was princess of Avonlea, six years ago, until it fell after an invasion and I came here, to seek shelter with my next of kin, Miranda. During that time, Miranda taught me her healing arts, and when she passed on, she gave to me her house, all her wordly goods, and charge of the orphans in her care. I adopted them as my own. Kristen is my daughter."

"And when you adopted them, was there any documentation that proved who they were to you?" Rumple asked.

"There was. My aunt kept excellent records of all the orphans who came to live at Shoe House. I have a paper that she wrote herself when Kristen came there, stating who she was, how she came to be orphaned, and the date upon which she came to live."

"And where is this document now, my lady?"

"I gave it to you this morning," Belle answered.

Rumple turned to Judge Midas. "I have it here, Your Honor, and would like to present it as evidence showing that my daughter is who she claims to be." He then went back and picked up one of the papers and handed it to the judge.

Then he said, "Belle, I would like you to answer one more question for me. How much trouble has Kristen been since coming to be your daughter?"

"Well, she has gotten into mischief, like all children, but I can honestly say that she regrets her actions and when she apologies, she is sincere. I have raised ten children on my own, Your Honor, before I married Rumplestiltskin, and I can tell you that Kristen is one of my better behaved youngsters. She has never attempted to lie to me, not even to get out of a punishment. I have taught all my children to never do so, that it is shameful, and if they attempt to and I catch them at it, they'll get a good spanking in addition to anything else I hand out to them."

Several of the parents watching nodded in agreement with Belle's words.

"And when she came to you, was Baron with her?"

"He was indeed. The bear and she were inseparable, and Miranda told me that she had not the heart to insist otherwise, even though she was at first wary of such a large animal. But Baron is truly tame and no child of mine need ever fear for their life around him. My younger daughter, June, has often ridden upon his back. And in fact, Baron saved three of my children from goblins and wargs a few weeks back. In fact, he minds better than some of my children!"

There was faint laughter from the gallery at this statement.

Rumple turned to Sully. "Your witness, Master Sully."

Sully rose and sauntered over to Belle. "Madam, isn't it true that when you adopted these children, you knew hardly anything about their pasts?"

"Not at all, Master Sully. As I said, my aunt kept very detailed records. The children themselves told me their stories, and they matched with what my aunt knew of them."

Sully scowled. "Did your daughter come with any proof that she owned the bear?"

"She had just lost her parents to a fire and had only the clothes on her back, Master Sully, along with Baron, who was a cub then!" Belle snapped. "Do you think my aunt was going to question a grieving child that way?"

"So you had nothing that proved the child was owner of the bear?"

"No, Kristen had nothing on her when she came to Shoe House."

"No further questions, Your Honor," Sully said, sounding smug.

Rumple came to stand before Belle again. "My lady, would you care to tell the court what I was doing this morning, while you were fetching that document from Shoe House?"

"How does that have any bearing on this case?" snapped Sully. "Who cares?"

"You'll see," Rumple said. "Belle?"

"You were over talking with alderman Geppetto, seeing if there were any records of Kristen's parents' circus in the records hall. You came to me later and showed me two documents from them. One was a signed permit showing that they got permission to camp on our fair grounds. And the other was a will made by Kristen's father, Jake Swenson."

Gasps followed her statement.

"Your Honor, may I show you these documents and then read to you a portion of the will?" Rumple asked.

Judge Midas nodded. Rumple fetched the documents and handed the permit to the judge. "As you can see, there is Jake's signature on the bottom. And here is the will, bearing the same signature. Now, if you will listen closely, I shall read a paragraph from it." Rumple said, then he read clearly, "_I, Jake Swenson, being of sound mind and body, do declare that if I should die before my wife, Lisle, she shall inherit all of my wordly goods and also my circus, and all that it contains. If both of us should die, then our daughter, Kristen Amber, our sole heir, shall inherit everything, including the circus. The circus shall be run by our manager, Mr. Pennyworth, until she comes of age, or she agrees to sell it to him. In the event that Mr. Pennyworth should become deceased, Kristen's inheritance shall be controlled by her guardian until she comes of age."_ Rumple said. "Belle and I are her guardians, Your Honor, and as it states here, we are the heirs to anything the Swensons owned."

"That's a lie, sorcerer!" Sully sputtered. "That document's a fake! You magicked it up so you could cheat me!"

"Did I? I assure you, that alderman Geppetto will vouch for me that he fetched the documents himself from the records hall. Shall I call him up?"

"Yes, by all means," the judge said.

Geppetto came and vouched that he had indeed found the records in the hall and brought them to Rumplestiltskin.

"That may be so, but I still say the papers are fake. You made them to discredit me!" Sully blustered.

Rumple looked daggers at Sully. "That is the second time you have accused me of forging documents, Sully! In my experience, only a guilty person accuses another of dishonesty without proof."

"All of you sorcerers are liars!" spat Sully. "You make your living off duping people with your cursed magic."

"Master Sully, might I remind you that Archmagus Gold is not on trial here!" rebuked Judge Midas. "And you are being rude and argumentative to your opposing counsel, who has been nothing but polite to you. Might I suggest you moderate your tone, sir, before I toss you in jail?"

Sully backed down, and muttered an apology.

"Judge Midas, I have a way to prove that my documents are not false, as Master Sully claims," Rumple said. "And there is no magic involved in it, simply the evidence of your own eyes. I would like you to examine the signatures written by Jake Swenson on both documents of mine. Once you have done so, I want to ask you a single question, are the signatures exactly the same?"

The judge did so. "No, Archmagus, they are not. Similar, yes, but not exactly the same. Where are you going with this?"

"You shall see, sir. Now look at the deed that Master Sully gave you. Supposedly it too was signed by Jake. Does that signature resemble the others?"

"Yes. What does that prove?"

"Look closely, sir. Does it look exactly like one of them?"

The judge nodded.

"As I thought. Your Honor, I would like to perform a small experiment, if you will. Might I borrow a pen, ink, and some scrap paper?"

"What is this, writing class?" sneered Sully. "You're wasting our time, sorcerer!"

"Archmagus Gold, what are you doing?" the judge demanded testily.

"I am proving a forgery, sir. But in order to do so, I need paper and ink."

The judge reached into his lectern and produced a piece of paper, ink, and a quill. He handed them to Rumplestiltskin.

"Now, sir, I am going to ask Belle to sign her name two times on this paper," Rumple said.

Belle did so.

Then Rumple took the paper and handed it to the judge. "Now, look at her two signatures. Do they look exactly alike?"

"No, they don't. Rumplestiltskin, what does this have to do with anything?" asked the magistrate.

"Everything, sir. Just bear with me a moment," the sorcerer said. "Now, give the paper to Master Sully and ask him to sign his name two times."

Sully glared at him. "Why should I participate in this stupidity?"

"If you're afraid, by all means decline."

"Give me the damn pen!" Sully growled. He took the pen and, leaning on the witness stand, wrote his name two times. "There! What does that prove?"

Rumple took the paper and handed it to Midas. "Your Honor, is Sully's signature exactly the same both times?"

Midas peered at it. "Why . . . yes it is!"

"So what?" Sully demanded.

"Now compare it to the one Jake signed upon the deed Sully gave you. Do the signatures resemble each other?"

Midas did so. "There is . . . a certain similarity."

"Which proves, Your Honor, that Jake's signature on the document is false," Rumplestiltskin declared triumphantly. "You see, when Belle wrote her signature two times, there are some differences in it, despite the fact that she wrote it herself both times. You have signed official documents numerous times, sir, but if you look at them, you shall notice some discrepancies in them. That is the case with everyone's signature. You can see it in Jake's signature on the permit and the will. The only time a signature is exactly the same is when it is written by a master forger. They take great pains to make signatures match exactly, because they write them over and over to imitate a person's handwriting. If you'll note, Sully's signature has very similar letters to Jake's on his supposed deed . . . because it was written by him, and he is a master forger. He forged Jake's name in order to get control of whatever was left of Jake's show . . . but he didn't know that Jake left behind a will . . . or that he named Kristen as his sole heir. When he found out Kristen was alive, it threw him for a loop, and he saw this as a way to make a quick bit of money, by claiming Baron was his. The bear is trained, and would be a valuable asset to his show, but he needed proof. So he forged a deed with Jake's supposed signature on it. He never considered we'd be able to produce other documents with the man's signature, he thought all of that destroyed in the fire. But as you can see, he was wrong."

Sully was gaping like a landed fish.

Judge Midas looked like a thundercloud. "What I see is that this—this scoundrel attempted to steal a little girl's rightful inheritance! What have you to say for yourself, sir?"

"The sorcerer's witched you, sir!" Sully cried. "He's making you see what's not there!"

Midas slammed his gavel down on the podium, making everyone jump. "Do you think I'm an imbecile, Sully? That I wouldn't know a spell cast upon me?"

"N-No . . . sir . . ." Sully cringed.

"The archmagus has not used magic on me. All I see is the evidence of my own two eyes. And they state that you are a fraud!" Midas shouted. "You have attempted to make a fool of me and take what you have no right to. As Jake's will clearly states . . . his daughter is heir to his belongings and business. Or her guardians, until she comes of age. Therefore, the bear is hers, and you have no claim to it or anything else of her father's. By forging this document, Sully, you have proven yourself to be a thief. And we'll have none of your sort in Valley Way. My judgment is thus—Archmagus Gold wins, and you are to pay him the worth of all that you took from the wreckage of the Swenson circus and then you are to leave immediately, and never come here again."

Sully looked about desperately, but the faces of the villagers were hard and unforgiving as stone. "You're all in thrall to this conjurer!" he yelled. "He's an evil man who holds you captive!"

"Oh, shut up, mister!" Phillip suddenly yelled back. "Just pay my papa the money you owe and get out! Thieves like you ain't welcome here!"

"Yeah! You better run, you nasty bug man!" Clary added, standing up on the bench and glaring at Sully. "Afore Baron bites you on the butt for callin' my papa names and tryin' to take him away from Kristen!"

Half the audience watching was convulsed with laughter at the two children's defense of their papa.

Even Judge Midas' lips quivered.

Sully went red as a tomato. Then he took a step forward, his moustache quivering. "Wicked little brats! I ought to knock some manners into your hides!"

At that Belle was on her feet, her eyes blazing. "Touch my children, Sully, and you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your life!"

"Which will be a short one, because he'll be a stone statue," Rumple snarled, lifting a hand. Purple sparks danced from his fingers.

Sully shrank backwards, only then realizing he'd made a grave mistake. Only to realize that there were more than just Rumple and Belle furious at him. All of the Gold and Avonlea children were glaring at him. Finn was fingering his flute.

Beyond them were all of the villagers, and they too were looking at Sully like they wished to spit him over a fire.

"Get out, you thief!"Archie shouted. "Before we run you out of town on a rail!"

"Yeah! We don't need your scurvy kind round here!" Mike added.

"Or trying to hurt little kids!" Geppetto snapped.

"Go home, Sully! Go home!" chanted the rest of the crowd.

Sully looked like a cornered rabbit, sweating and cringing.

"Before we string you up!" yelled Dirk.

"I'd suggest you do as they say," Midas advised coldly. "Before you find yourself dancing on air, Sully."

Sully took to his heels and fled down the aisle of the courthouse.

Just before he reached the doors, Rumplestiltskin called, "And don't forget my payment, dearie! You can leave it on the fairgrounds before you go. But if you think you can leave without giving it to me, remember this—I have ways of knowing where you go, and I'll find you and extract that payment out of your hide, Sully. You're a coward, a cheat, and a liar, but no one ever cheats the Dark One and gets away with it. Or insults one of my own. Just remember that!"

"Okay! Okay! I'll . . . give it to you!" Sully babbled, quivering like a leaf in a windstorm. "Just . . . leave me alone . . . conjurer!"

Then he yanked open the doors and fled, running like a rabbit chased by a pair of foxes.

The villagers cheered.

Then Judge Midas banged down his gavel. "Case dismissed!"

Kristen came over and hugged both Belle and Rumple. "We did it! We won!"

"And justice is served," Belle declared, hugging her back.

"And Baron is safe," Rumple said, hugging them both. "Now let's go home. I think it's time for lunch, and I'm hungry enough to eat a bear, dearie."

"I'm so glad Mom married you," Kristen whispered, giggling. Then she skipped up the aisle, her golden curls bouncing, a carefree child once more.

**A/N: I'd like to thank my brother, Vinnie, who is a lawyer and without his advice, this chapter couldn't have been written. Hope you all liked!**


	31. Tiger, Tiger

**31**

**Tiger, Tiger**

Sully was so intimidated by Rumplestiltskin that he left a bag of gold with a note upon it lying on the fairgrounds the next morning just before he and his circus pulled out the next morning. After the threats the villagers had thrown at him, he wasn't minded to hang around and risk a lynch mob, and though he detested magic wielders, he also wasn't minded to test the Dark One and get turned into anything unnatural.

Rum came himself the next morning to see what Sully had left behind, and found a bag with one hundred gold pieces in it. He calmly tested the gold, making sure it was real and not dross covered in gold plate, found it was indeed actual money, and took it back home with him. He would put it in an account with Kristen's name on it, to be held in trust for her until she was an adult, and then she could do what she wished with it.

While he was doing that, Ivy found a strange gift on the kitchen windowsill. It was a bag of herbs, savory ones, like curry and sage, which she did not grow in her garden, along with a recipe written on thin paper colored a curious shade of leaf green. The recipe was for curry-sage game hens, a recipe she had never heard of, written in flowing script, almost like that a scribe would write.

She looked about, trying to determine where this unexpected bounty had come from, but upon seeing no one, decided to make the most of it, and try out the recipe that night. She asked Peter and Rafe to hunt up some grouse for her, for the birds were plentiful this time of year, and the boys went out eagerly to do so, along with Rowan, who wasn't a bird dog, but could retrieve game for them.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

That night, everyone praised Ivy's new dish, and when Belle asked her where she had gotten the recipe, Ivy said she had found it, not bothering to explain where and how. Belle assumed it had been in one of her daughter's many recipe books. The grouse were tender and juicy and the spices lent them an exotic delicious flavor. Even picky Clary said she liked Ivy's new "chicken", and ate her portion without complaint.

Jasmine thought the spices reminded her of her former home in the desert, where the cooks had often used curry, almond milk, and coriander in their dishes. She ate the grouse with an odd lump of nostalgia in her throat, such as she hadn't had for a long time. As a nature witch, Jasmine didn't eat much meat, preferring a mostly fish, egg, and vegetarian diet. She ate chicken, lamb, and bacon, because those animals were raised for food and even some wild game, because the animals that Rafe hunted lived by the law of the wilderness, where some must die so that others would live, and Jasmine accepted those laws, for the animals themselves had taught her them. "We don't mourn those who have died fulfilling their destiny," had been the words first spoken to her by a great stag of the forest, who had explained to her the laws of predator and prey. She also didn't talk to the chickens, sheep, and pigs, as most of them weren't great conversationalists anyhow, and she knew better than to make pets out of things that would end up on the dinner table.

That night, she told some more tales of the jungle animals her old nurse, Scheherazade, had told to her, spinning out the tales into wondrous stories for Phillip, June, Nick, Nora, and Clary. She told tales of elephants and their riders, of lame tigers, seals in the icy northern seas, vicious wild dogs, and quick striking mongooses who battled deadly cobras.

Her siblings listened, enthralled even as she had been, though reciting the stories made her miss her companion, the tiger Rajah, even more than usual. Oh, how she wished she knew what had happened to her tiger! She fell asleep that night clutching a stuffed tiger that Rumple had gotten for her when she had first arrived at the castle, and been homesick and grieving her parents and her lost pet. It had been a long time since she had slept with that security toy, but that night she felt she needed something to hug, even if the something was a stuffed animal.

And Nora, who still slept with her doll, Samantha, would never tease her over it.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

That next morning, Belle was plagued with both nausea and a headache, both things she had dealt with in the past during her pregnancies. But it seemed that this one made her sicker than the other three combined for some reason. Belle supposed it could be that she was older this time around, and her body was having trouble adjusting.

It worried Rumple, who hated seeing anyone he cared for ill, and caused him to bring her chamomile tea, milk, lightly buttered toast, and some fruit in bed that morning, trying to coax her to eat.

Belle sipped the tea, drank the milk, and nibbled the toast about the edges, then said, "I just hope this stays down, Rum. Usually I wait before trying to eat too much after a bout of morning sickness."

"Don't eat too fast, dearie. I'm sorry you're sick like this."

"It'll pass . . . eventually. It's what most pregnant women go through, so it's not like it's a shock to me," his wife said practically. "Do I have anymore feverfew?"

"For your headache tea?" Rumple queried. "Let me see. You just stay here and rest." He left the room, going to her stillroom, which had once been a small guest room, where she ground up her herbs and made her medicinal mixtures, tinctures, tonics and pastes. He was the only one besides Rennie who had access to it, because Rennie often helped her and could be trusted not to poison herself.

Belle lay back against her pillows and concentrated on not losing what little she had just eaten. She breathed in and out slowly and sipped more tea and closed her eyes against the pounding headache. Sometimes just lying still and quiet helped.

Rumple soon returned with a steaming cup of her standard headache remedy in his hand, and placed it next to the other cup of chamomile. "Here you go, love. But I'm afraid you're all out of it once you drink this."

Belle opened her eyes and gulped some of the tea down before saying, "Then I'll have to go into the village to the apothecary and buy more herbs. Once I feel better, that is."

"I can go for you," her husband offered.

"No, that's okay. I can do it, Rum," she asserted, not wanting to be a burden. "You were going to teach Phillip how to write his name and Clary too, remember?"

"That can wait. I don't mind running down to the store for you."

"Well, I do!" she snapped. "I can go myself, just give me an hour to let this blasted headache go away."

"All right. Suit yourself, Mistress Independence!" he said, a little sharpness creeping into his tone.

Then he turned about and left, before he said something that would start a quarrel.

After he had gone, Belle drank the rest of the headache tea and closed her eyes, regretting the way she had just snapped at her husband. _My gods, I probably sounded like that bitch Milah! He was only trying to help, and here I go losing my temper. I really hate the first trimester, all these blasted hormones, feeling ill every morning, and getting snippy over the dumbest things._

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she would make it up to Rum later, when she didn't feel like her skull was being pounded on an anvil.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle came downstairs after taking a short nap, and eating the food Rumple had given her. She felt much better and more than a little ashamed of her outburst. She found her husband in the dining room, working with Phillip and Clary, who were busy writing their first names on slates with colored chalk, copying the sample he had written for each of them on a piece of paper.

Belle slipped up behind him and put her arms around his neck, saying contritely in his ear, "Sorry, Rum. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

He turned to look at her, saying, "Was I being annoying?"

"No, you were being kind, and I was just being a pain in the ass," she sighed. "I suppose I could blame it on hormones."

His hand came up to cup her face. "I've had mornings like that, dearie. So don't feel so bad."

Phillip looked up from printing his name and said, "Aww, are you two gonna go all mushy again?"

Belle chuckled at her son's indignant tone. "Why? Does it bother you when we kiss each other, Phil?"

"Mom, kissing's girl stuff! Ugh!"

"Then you just keep on writing, lad, and don't worry about what we're doing at this end of the table," his father instructed.

Clary looked up and giggled. "I like it when you kiss Mama, Papa. It's cute!"

"I think I'm gonna puke," Phillip groaned.

"You do and Mama will give you yucky medicine," his little sister told him.

Phillip rolled his eyes. "Girls! What is it with you and kissing?"

"Kissing means you love someone," Clary informed him. "Don'tcha know _that_?"

"Of course I do! I'm not dumb!"

"Then why'd you ask a dumb question?"

"_You_ ask stupid questions all the time!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do _not_, Phil-lip!"

"Do _too_, Clar-rissa!"

Clary stuck her tongue out at him.

Phillip made a face back at her.

"Girls know more than boys."

"Says who? Boys are smarter than girls."

"Nuh-uh. I know my nursery rhymes better."

"I can name more colors than you. So there!"

Belle looked up from kissing her husband and said softly, "That's enough, you two!"

"_She _started it, Mom!" Phillip pointed at Clary accusingly.

"Did not! Tattletale!"

"Crybaby! Did too!"

"Phillip and Clarissa! If you don't stop quarreling both of you are going to end up sitting in the corner for five minutes," Rumple threatened.

"_He_ said I was a crybaby, Papa!" Clary glared at her brother.

"_She_ called me a tattletale!" Phillip glared right back at her.

"I think two little children need naps," Belle said.

"No!" they both yelped.

"Then listen to your father and do what he says," their mother told them.

Pouting and sulking, they both returned to writing on their slates.

"I think I'm going to run into town for a bit, Rum," Belle said. "Before these little imps drive me to drink."

"Take Jasmine with you. She's been a bit depressed lately for some reason," Rum suggested. "Maybe a trip to the village will cheer her up."

"I wanna come!" Clary piped up.

"_You_ need to finish writing your name, young miss," Rumple ordered.

"Aww, but Papa!" She wore a scowl worthy of a drill sergeant.

"Never you mind, Clarissa Gold," he chided.

"I wanna go with Mama," the little snip said.

"Next time. Be back soon," Belle said, then she kissed Rum and left the room.

"It's no fair!" Clary cried, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why don't you cry about it?" Phillip demanded.

"Shut up, Phillip!"

"Don't make me count to three," Rumple warned.

"Stuff it, Clary!"

"One," their father started counting.

"Put a cork in it, Phillip!"

"Two."

Both children subsided then, knowing if Rum got to three it meant time out and a swat for disobeying. And maybe even a nap too.

Rumplestiltskin sighed. It seemed like today was a day for being out of sorts.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Jasmine was happy to get out of the castle and go to the village with Belle to help pick out herbs at the apothecary. She liked the fact that only she was going, like she was almost grown-up, like Rennie or Elaina. She walked quietly beside Belle as they took the path down to the village.

The birds were calling to each other in the trees, and Jasmine listened to them singing silly songs and boasting to each other about how good they were at flying or how handsome or some other nonsense, for some of them were males and trying to impress a female.

Elaina used to say some boys were silly like that . . . until she met Rafe, who didn't need to do anything but smile to impress her.

Jasmine wondered sometimes if she would ever find a boy to impress her that way, when she was old enough to be interested in boys, that is.

Or maybe it was better to stay single, like Mistress Ella, who fed crumbs to mice and rescued stray cats and whom some of the village children called the Crazy Cat Lady or sometimes Cinder Lady, because she used to be a maid in some rich merchant's house before quitting and coming to live at Valley Way a few months ago. There was more to the story, Jasmine had heard Elaina and Rennie whispering about it one night when they thought she'd fallen asleep over her embroidery. There had been something about impossible-to-please daughters of the house and nearly being ruined by the master's son, whatever that meant, and it was lucky Ella had run off when she did, otherwise something bad might have happened. Jasmine could never figure out what, but assumed Ella was much happier living alone in her own little cottage and not having to be anyone's servant ever again. Cats and mice were quiet companions, at least.

As they reached the entrance to the village, Jasmine spotted an array of colorful wagons pulled by some oxen camped upon the fairgrounds, where the circus had been a week and a half ago. Only these wagons were painted all the colors of the rainbow and they all bore the same slogan upon them—_Sharif Osama's Exotic Animal Exhibit!_

"Ooh!" Jasmine gasped. "What's that?" She pointed to the wagons. "Look, Belle! That looks like a caravan from one of the desert kingdoms, like the one I came from. See, there's some writing in my old language underneath the common signs."

Belle stopped and peered at it. "You can go see it after we go to the apothecary, Jasmine. Right now I really need those herbs and you can help me determine which are the freshest ones with your talent."

Jasmine nodded. She really wanted to see what that caravan was all about, but she also knew that Belle needed her, and she wanted Belle to see that she could act responsibly, like her older sisters.

So she went down to the apothecary with her stepmother, and used her plant sense to help Belle pick out the freshest feverfew, chamomile, lavender, ginger, and raspberry leaf. But once they had gotten several packets of the herbs, Belle felt another headache coming on, and said, "I need to just lie down for a little at Shoe House, Jasmine. I think the heat's getting to me."

The two made their way to Belle's office, where she brewed herself another stronger cup of headache tea and lay down with a cool cloth over her eyes on the single bed. "Will you be all right for a little while, sweetie?"

Jasmine nodded. "I'll read while you take a nap."

When Belle nodded off a few minutes later, Jasmine set down the herbal she had picked up off of a shelf in the main room and walked outside. Then she hesitated, looking towards the street heading out of town.

Belle _had_ said she could go and see the animal show after the apothecary. So she really wasn't breaking any rules by going there. And she wouldn't talk to the owner, just look around a bit and see the animals. Maybe speak to them if she could.

Decision made, Jasmine walked quickly up the street. It was almost the middle of the day, and there weren't many villagers about right then, most were inside their houses, trying to keep cool, or in the Goose, drinking down a cold one.

But Jasmine, used to the stifling heat of the desert, wasn't bothered much by the heat here, and continued on until she reached the colorful group of wagons pulled by sleepy oxen.

She didn't see anyone about, so she slipped up to the side of one wagon and peered inside it. There were steel bars across one side and lying on a bed of straw was a camel, calmly chewing a stalk of hay. The camel was of the white variety, and it stared at her with lazy eyes, fringed by impossibly long lashes.

Jasmine smiled at it. It had been a long time since she'd seen a camel, but she still recalled how to speak their tongue. She moistened her tongue, and then hawked and spat at the camel's feet, because that was considered polite among dromedaries.

"Hello, O White Wind of the Desert," she greeted, using the flowery speech camels preferred. "You're a long way from home."

The camel looked up and spat back at her in greeting. Then it gave a soft bray. "Who are you, girl, that speaks my proper tongue?"

"My name is Jasmine Gold, and I'm a nature witch. I speak the tongues of all beasts and birds. Reptiles too. But once I was a caliph's daughter and lived in the beautiful gardens of the Sunset Palace at the edge of the Palm Oasis. I used to talk to my father's racing camels every day. Are you the only camel here?"

"I am. My master has only one kind of each animal on display. I am the finest of specimens. Surely you agree, princess?" the camel preened.

Jasmine laughed. She had forgotten how affected and prideful camels could be. "You are indeed magnificent. Your coat is as dazzling as a summer star, your eyes as dark as the finest ebony, and you look able to race the wind. What are you called?"

The camel arched its neck and preened. "My mother called me Swifter-Than-A-Desert-Khamsin, but you can call me Khamsin for short. My master just calls me Ivory."

"Okay. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Khamsin." Jasmine reached out and stroked the camel's soft nose before withdrawing and saying, "Where is your master now?"

"Snoring away in his wagon. He rarely rises before noon," Khamsin replied. "The boy is here to give us food and water if we need it."

"What boy?"

"The master's indentured servant. A skinny boy, a street brat named Aladdin. He can't speak properly, but he doesn't mind when I spit in his hair."

Jasmine chuckled, for to a camel, that meant a human was quite civilized. "I'll talk more with you later, okay, Khamsin? Right now I want to meet the others here."

Then she moved on to the next cage.

Inside that one a cheetah was sleeping, its head on its paws. Jasmine did not call out to it, knowing the cats were cranky when woken unexpectedly.

The next cage held several golden monkeys, all of whom shrieked insults at her, which was typical of monkeys, and refused to answer her questions at all.

Afraid their screaming would wake the master, Jasmine quickly moved on.

The next cage held a huge rock python, curled up in a corner in endless loops and coils. It did not respond when Jasmine greeted it in its hissing tongue. She assumed it was asleep and continued down the row.

Next were two peregrine falcons, the fastest things in the air, save the magical phoenixes, and these birds chattered away to Jasmine for a few minutes, telling her they were a mated pair, named Storm and Comet, and were expecting some hatchlings any day now.

Three other cages contained an oryx, which was a desert gazelle, too shy to speak to her, a huge black crocodile, which rudely threatened to bite off her hand, and a large hyena, who was more interested in eating the stinking carrion on the cage floor than chatting with her.

Then she came to the last cage. And here she gasped aloud when she saw it contained a huge tiger. The tiger was a handsome specimen, sleeping outstretched on the floor of the cage, its bright black stripes showing up like shadows against the deep orange coat. The tiger was a male, and had a snowy chest and underbelly.

Jasmine looked at it hard, for it reminded her so of her lost Rajah. And then she saw it. There was an odd growth of hair along the tiger's chest. Hair in the shape of a rosette. Jasmine had only ever seen one tiger before with that particular mark.

"Rajah! Oh, Rajah, I've found you!" she cried, speaking the old language of her desert people, tears in her eyes.

Two things occurred then.

The tiger woke from its nap and stared right into her eyes, and a skinny boy wearing ragged pants, a threadbare vest, and cracked sandals came around the corner of the hyena cage and saw her.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" the boy demanded, speaking with the soft accent of the desert people. "The show's not open till nightfall, girl."

Jasmine ignored him, her heart full to bursting. She had found her missing tiger at last. Swallowing hard, she called, "Rajah, my best beloved, do you remember me?" in a tiger's soft growl.

And the great tiger bounded to his feet as if stuck with a sword and came over to the bars. He pressed his great head against them, purring loudly and huffed back, "Jasmine, my princess! You are alive! When the wicked witch came and froze you all into ice, I thought you forever lost. I wandered for days alone in the desert, and almost died of thirst and hunger until that fat fool of an animal trainer found me."

Jasmine ran to him and tried to cuddle his head to her through the bars, her large dark eyes shimmering with tears. "Rajah, I thought you were dead too!"

"Hey! Get away from there! That tiger could take your arm off!" the boy snapped, reaching out to grab Jasmine's shoulder.

Jerked rudely away from her reunion, Jasmine spun on the boy and snapped in her first language, the liquid sharp syllables of the desert, "Take your hands off me, boy! I am Princess Jasmine, daughter of the Caliph, and this is my tiger!"

Taken aback by being addressed in his native tongue, as well as by what she had just said, the boy said, in the same language, "You're touched in the head . . . princess! If that's even who you say you are. This tiger belongs to my master, Sharif Osama, and has for the past four years."

Jasmine scowled. "I am _not_ touched in the head . . . Aladdin! I _am_ a former princess, and this tiger was once my protector and companion, his name is Rajah, and I've been looking for him for years, ever since he wandered away after the snow queen bespelled me and all who dwelled in my palace."

The boy nearly fell backwards. "How do you know my name? Are you a witch?"

"A nature witch. Meaning I can speak to animals and grow plants. Khamsin told me your name."

"Khamsin?"

"Ivory, the camel, but her real name is Khamsin," Jasmine told him. "I'm the adopted daughter of Rumplestiltskin Gold now, but I haven't forgotten where I came from."

"You speak our language like a typical noble," Aladdin said with a slight sneer.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"All hoity-toity."

"And you have the accent and manners of a street brat!" she retorted.

He clapped at her. "Bravo, princess, for guessing where _I'm_ from! But that's really not that hard. Now get away from that tiger before he mauls you and Master Osama beats me for letting it happen."

"He won't beat you . . . because this is Rajah and he'd die before he hurt me. Haven't you heard a word I've been saying?" Jasmine asked tartly.

"Yeah, you said you're the daughter of a sorcerer, the one my master says spins straw into gold or something like that. And that you can talk to animals. And you think this is your pet tiger."

"I don't _think_ he is, I _know_ he is!" Jasmine protested.

"How can you tell?"

"First, there's a marking he's had since he was a cub that I recognized," Jasmine showed him the swirled rosette of hair on the tiger's chest. "Second, he knows me and I spoke to him. He's really my Rajah. And I need to take him home with me."

"That's never going to happen, princess," Aladdin shook his head.

"Why not? All I have to do is explain to your Sharif—"

"_Nobody_ explains _anything_ to Osama, princess. And he keeps whatever he owns forever." Aladdin shuddered as he said this. "Except for me, since I have to serve my contract and then I'm free to go."

"You're a . . . slave?"

"No! I'm his indentured serving boy! There's a difference. I'm contracted to him for seven years, then I'm free."

"Oh. But he _has_ to let Rajah go. Rajah's my pet, not some . . . some exhibit!"

"Can you prove it?"

"He hasn't tried to eat me yet."

"I mean do you have a bill of sale or something proving you owned him?" Aladdin rolled his eyes.

"No. He was a gift to me from my lord father. When he gave you a present, you just accepted it."

"Yeah, well, when Osama gets an animal, he never lets it go. No matter what," Aladdin told her.

"But he just _has_ to! Rajah belongs to me. I've been looking for him for years and now that I found him, nothing will ever separate us again."

"Tell that to Osama!" Aladdin snorted.

"Maybe I should!" she whirled around, prepared to search all the wagons until she found the owner's.

"That'd be a waste of time. He'll never give the tiger up. Not for love or money."

"He sounds like a tyrant."

"Oh, he is."

"Then why stay?"

"Because beggars can't be choosers. If I break my contract, I'll have nothing. At least after seven years, I'll be old enough to make my own way in the world and get something out of it."

"But how long do you have to endure him?"

"Only till I'm seventeen," Aladdin shrugged. "Seven years. I can handle it. And at least I get a place to stay and food to eat, which beats stealing. Not everyone lives in a palace, princess."

Jasmine blushed. "Sorry. I don't . . . well, I'm not really a princess anymore . . . Now I'm the daughter of a sorcerer and a Healer . . ."

"It's okay. One day Fortune's Wheel will spin my way. Until it does, Abu and I'll manage."

"Who's Abu?"

"My best friend. A monkey. He's around somewhere," Aladdin said, not bothering to tell her that the monkey was probably stealing some shopkeeper blind, as usual.

"Oh. My best friend was Rajah. _Is_ Rajah. Are you sure I can't convince your master to sell him? My papa has money . . ."

Aladdin shook his head. "Like I told you, princess, Osama never sells anything. He's a tightfisted snake."

"But Rajah doesn't belong to him. He must have found him wandering and captured him," Jasmine insisted.

"Doesn't matter how. Once he's got something, he holds onto it."

"Even if I could make a deal with him?"

"Osama doesn't make deals. Not with anyone for anything. Trust me."

"He must have made one with you," Jasmine pointed out.

"And he'll try to weasel out of it when it's time. But I already know that. Which is why I stole my contract back and keep it hidden."

Jasmine looked at her tiger again and felt her lower lip tremble. "I need Rajah, Aladdin. He's not meant to be locked up. He's meant to be free . . . with me. I'll pay whatever price your master wants . . ."

"You crazy? The reason nobody makes deals with him is because he never keeps his word. He'll find a way to get you to barter your soul or whatever and then you're done."

"Nobody ever cheats my papa."

"Uh huh. Which is why Osama won't deal with him. He only deals with suckers."

"Then what if I made a deal with you, not him?" Jasmine bargained. "You help me and I'll pay you. I have gold . . . jewels too."

Aladdin hesitated.

"Unless . . . you're too afraid," she said, knowing from living with her brothers just how to make their pride work for her.

"All right, princess. You've got yourself a deal. I might be a street rat, but I'm no coward. I'll help you get your tiger."

She threw her arms about him and kissed his cheek.

He went red and wriggled free of her. "Hey, enough with the mushy stuff!"

She giggled. "Thank you, Aladdin! Let me go and get my money pouch."

"All right. But hurry. Osama's asleep, but he won't be forever."

Jasmine turned and ran faster than she ever had in her life back to the Dark Castle.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When she got there, no one noticed as they were all busy doing things, and she slipped upstairs and got her small pouch with all of her allowance that she'd saved plus her headband with its opal centerpiece. It had been one of the few things she still had from her father's palace, but she would sacrifice everything she owned to get Rajah back. Tucking it inside the pouch, she ran back to the caravan.

She found Aladdin hard at work . . . picking the lock to Rajah's cage.

Jasmine shielded him, pretending to look around, keeping a watch out for anyone coming.

In about two minutes, the clever thief had the lock open. He swung the cage door wide and said, "There! Your tiger, princess!"

Rajah jumped down and ran over to Jasmine, purring thunderously, and she hugged him about the neck and cried.

Aladdin studied the ground between his feet and wondered how he was going to explain to Osama that his tiger had gotten away.

Jasmine gently spoke to Rajah, telling him to go up to the castle on the hill and wait for her, hidden.

After a quick lick of his sandpaper tongue, the tiger bounded off, slipping into the thick brush alongside the trail like as only ghosts and tigers can.

"Aladdin, I can't tell you how much this means to me . . . Here's your gold . . . and my opal."

He took the pouch, then thrust the opal back at her. "You keep that, princess. It's too hard to hide."

"But I owe you . . ."

"I'll collect on it someday. Once I'm my own man," Aladdin grinned. "In seven years."

She fingered the headband uneasily. "Will you get in trouble?"

"Don't worry about me, princess. Just get that tiger home." He made the gold disappear into his sash.

"I wish . . ."

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Like my old granny used to say. Now scat!"

"If you're sure?"

"I am. Go, silly girl. And look for me again in seven years. I'll be back."

Jasmine turned and hurried out of the encampment. Aladdin watched her go, then placed the pouch of gold inside the tiger cage and rammed his head into it. That way when Osama found his prize tiger missing, his temper would be sweetened by the gold and he couldn't accuse Aladdin of negligence if he was knocked out cold . . . by the thieves who'd crept on him unaware.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle awoke feeling much refreshed and found Jasmine reading an herbal and drinking some tea. "Thank you for being so patient, sweetie. We can head home now."

"Oh, good!" Jasmine said, acting nonchalant. She had returned just in time.

As the two walked back up the street and towards the village perimeter, Belle asked, "Would you like to see what that beast show is all about?"

"No. I hate animals in cages," her daughter answered, wanting only to get back up to the castle and let Rajah into her bedroom.

"All right. Let's get back home. We're just in time for lunch and hopefully Phillip and Clary behaved for your father while I was gone."

Once they were back at the castle, Belle hurried to put away her herbs before going to see if Ivy needed help making lunch for everyone. Jasmine slipped outside and called Rajah with a few huffing grunts, like a mother tiger would her cub.

The tiger bounded out of the underbrush, rubbing his huge head alongside her chest and purring ecstatically. Normally, tigers didn't do that, but Rajah was an exception to many things. Jasmine petted him, then whispered, "Come on, Rajah. Let's get you inside and upstairs before anyone sees. I'll think of something to tell Papa and Belle later."

For the first time, Jasmine wished she had disguise magic instead of being a nature witch. This would be so much easier! She went and checked before she opened the castle doors and let Rajah inside. The coast was clear, and she and the tiger ran up the stairs.

She patted her bed, and Rajah jumped into the middle of it . . . and the bed broke.

"Uh oh! I forgot . . . you're bigger now and my bed's . . . umm . . . not made for sleeping tigers," Jasmine groaned.

Rajah looked slightly ashamed.

"It's not your fault."

Just then she heard Rum's voice coming down the hall. "Jasmine, dearie, what was that? I heard something crash."

Jasmine scurried to grab several blankets out of the closet and throw them on top of the tiger. "Shh!" she told Rajah. Then she turned around and smiled brightly as Rumplestiltskin came limping into the room. "Hi, Papa! It was nothing."

Rumple raised an eyebrow. There was something different about his daughter's room. Something . . . odd.

Jasmine came over and tugged on his hand. "I'm so hungry I could eat an . . . oryx! Let's go have lunch."

Rumple was almost fooled into following her. Except for the fact that his parental radar was buzzing. Something told him all was not right here. Then he saw Jasmine's bed . . . which was lopsided and had half of the linen closet piled atop it . . . and a strange striped tail dangling out of the covers.

"Jasmine, what happened to your bed?"

The little girl froze. "Umm . . . well . . . it kind of broke . . ."

"From you kind of jumping on it?" her father asked, sighing. Bae and Ivy had done that once and broken Bae's bed.

"Sort of. But you can fix it after we eat." She tugged on his hand.

"Oh, I think I can fix it now."

"No! I mean, it can wait."

"It's no trouble, dearie," Rumple pointed a finger and the bed mended itself.

Then it broke again with a sharp crack.

"What in seven hells?" muttered her father.

"See, you need to eat," Jasmine said, trying again to get him to leave.

"No, I need to see what in the gods name's wrong with this," Rumple said, and this time he levitated the mountain of blankets off the bed.

To reveal a tiger curled up amid the broken pieces of his daughter's bed.

"Jasmine . . . _what_ is a _tiger_ doing in your room?"

"Umm . . . it's a long story, Papa . . ."

"I'm sure it is. Where did you get it?"

"Him, Papa. It's Rajah. And I . . . err . . . sort of . . . stole him."

Rumplestiltskin thought he'd heard everything, being the father of eighteen children. He knew every excuse in the book. Until those words came out of Jasmine's mouth.

He stared at the tiger, stared at his daughter, and his mouth dropped open.

"_Excuse_ me? You _stole_ a tiger?"

**A/N: Okay, now what's Rum going to do? *snickers* And who liked Aladdin's sudden appearance? Thanks to everyone who favorited, reviewd and is reading this story!**


	32. Let's Make a Deal

**32**

**Let's Make A Deal**

"Umm . . . see . . . I can explain, Papa . . ." Jasmine began, fumbling about for the right words. She had never seen her father look so shocked.

Rumplestiltskin held up a hand. "Wait. I cannot believe what I just heard. You, Jasmine Gold, my usually obedient daughter, have actually committed a crime. My gods, girl! You acted worse than Jack, and I thought _he_ had impulse problems." The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

Jasmine felt tears fill her eyes. She hated when her father was angry with her, and hated even worse when he was disappointed in her. Now he was both, and it was all her fault. And yet, what could she have done? Obviously, something better than what she had. "I'm sorry, Papa!" she sniffled.

Rum scowled at her. "Yes, well, that's a start. Come with me. Tell your tiger to stay."

Jasmine turned and spoke to Rajah in tiger speech, bidding the big animal to stay upon her bed and sleep until she returned.

The tiger huffed and made an odd growling noise.

"No, this is my father, Rumplestiltskin. I'm always safe with him. Just go to sleep," Jasmine said, blinking furiously. She knew that Rajah sensed she was upset and also that her father was, and the tiger was uneasy.

But Rajah laid his head on his paws and proceeded to doze.

Jasmine followed Rum to his study, a room that she almost never went into. She felt a hot flush crawl up her face as she did so, and wondered how much trouble she was in. She had a feeling it was probably the worst trouble of her life.

"Sit down and wait for me," Rumple ordered. "I need to talk to your mother."

Jasmine slipped into a chair and stared at the floor. She had never felt so wretched in her life. What a day this had turned out to be! First she had found her tiger and now she was in trouble for taking him home. She wondered if Rum would spank her. He never had, for she was not one to invite that sort of punishment, being a normally obedient child.

She bit her lip and tried to stop herself from crying. She hated being a weepy girl, and tears were almost as foreign to her as misbehavior.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"What do you mean, she stole a _tiger_?" Belle repeated. Rumple had come and gotten her from the kitchen and led her up to their bedroom, where he told her about what he had discovered in Jasmine's room. "Where on earth did she get a tiger?" Then she paused and groaned. "Oh, no! The wild beast show!"

"The what?" Rum frowned. "What wild beast show?"

"The one we saw when we went down to the village. I told her she could go and see it after we stopped at the apothecary, but then I was feeling so exhausted and I had another headache that I went to lie down at Shoe House. I fell asleep after drinking some of my tea and before I did, I asked Jasmine to stay at the house. I never thought . . . no wonder she didn't want to see the show after I offered it to her."

"She probably snuck down there to look and saw this tiger . . . maybe it wasn't being taken care of properly . . . and convinced herself it's her missing one," Rumple said, trying to figure things out. "But how in the world did she manage to get it out of there and into her bedroom I don't know."

"We should ask her," Belle said.

"I know. I will. But what else should we do?"

"I have a few ideas. But first let's hear her story before we decide," Belle said.

"All right. I can't believe she'd do something like this." Rumple shook his head.

"Let's see what reasons she has for doing it," Belle said.

Together they left the bedroom and went over to the study.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

After listening to Jasmine's whole explanation, including her admission that Aladdin had actually helped her to free the tiger, Rumplestilstkin asked, "And why in the gods' name didn't you come to me or to your mother and ask us for help when you found out Rajah was down there? You saw how we helped Kristen and Baron. Did you think we wouldn't do the same for you?"

Jasmine shook her head. "I . . . I didn't think it'd do any good. Aladdin said . . . he said his master would never let Rajah go, even if you talked with him about it. That's why I made a deal with him instead. I just _couldn't_ leave Rajah there, Papa! I had to do something."

"What you should have done was come to us, Jasmine, not tried to solve this on your own," he reproved.

"You also shouldn't have gone to that animal exhibit alone while I was sleeping," Belle added. "After what happened to your sister, I would have thought you'd have had better sense, young lady."

Jasmine hung her head. "I'm sorry. I should have waited. But I thought . . . well, I guess I _didn't_ think . . . not like I usually do."

"No, most certainly not. And while I understand why you did what you did, I can't condone you disobeying me like that, child," Belle said sternly.

Jasmine wrung her hands. "Are you . . . going to make me give up Rajah?" she asked weakly, fearing the only way to make things right was to do just that.

"Not if we can help it," Bell answered, knowing just what it would do to the girl to give up her newly found friend. "But I trusted you to behave responsibly, Jasmine, and instead you ran off while my back was turned. Just like you were Phillip's age." She knew those words and her disappointment would hurt the conscientious girl more than a slap.

Sure enough, Jasmine flinched, and her dark eyes filled with tears.

"We're both very disappointed in you, young lady," Rumple said, forcing himself to be stern, though he detested making any of his children cry, even when they deserved it. "I know I taught you better, Jasmine Gold." He darted a questioning look at his wife.

Belle nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then said, "So, for disobeying me, I'm going to treat you like you were six again, and make you stay beside me for the next week. Just like you're a baby that I need to watch continuously. The only places you may go out of my sight are to bed and to the bathroom."

Jasmine gulped. For her, that was a horrible punishment, as she was accustomed to being independent, and going where she wished. "Yes, my lady." And she could just imagine what her siblings would say to that!

"Furthermore, you know that what you did was wrong," Rum continued. "Sneaking off to make a deal with Aladdin, talking that boy into stealing Rajah . . . well, maybe he didn't require all that much persuasion, being what he is, but still . . . I want you to write me an essay of at least two pages on what you did wrong, why it was wrong, and what you _should_ have done instead. And along with your usual chores, you'll get a few extra ones, and maybe that will keep you out of trouble."

"Yes, Papa. But . . . what about Rajah?" Jasmine asked, her lower lip quivering at what the reply might be.

Rumplestiltskin sighed. "Yes, what about this tiger you've stolen? Or that you paid this indentured servant to steal for you?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, dearie, the only way I can see out of this mess is to go down and talk to that caravan owner and explain what happened and offer him a deal he can't refuse."

"But . . . Papa, Osama doesn't deal with anyone . . . he might . . . might not talk with you . . . and he might want Rajah back . . ." Tears streaked her face.

"True, but that's a chance I'll have to take," her father said. "And Jasmine, _every_ man has his price. If I know anything about making deals, I know that. A man like this Osama you've described . . . he has his price, it might be a bit higher than I wish to pay, but I can deal with him." He rose, as he had been sitting behind his desk, and leaning on his cane, limped over to the door. "Best I go and deal with him now rather than later. Jasmine, you stay here until I return. Write that essay for me and think about what you've done today . . . and never do anything like it again, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Jasmine whimpered, then began to cry quietly.

Belle handed her a handkerchief. "Dry your eyes, little one, and then start writing. We should be back in an hour or so."

"We?" Rum raised an eyebrow.

"I'm coming with you. I have a feeling you'll need me. Oh, not to dicker with that caravan master. But for some reason. Don't ask me why. I just do."

"Maybe you've got a touch of the Sight, my Belle," Rumple mused, then he allowed her to proceed him out the door.

Jasmine dried her eyes on Belle's handkerchief and then went to write her essay, sitting at Rum's desk and taking up one of his quills.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

By the time Belle and Rumple reached the caravan, they could hear some of the animals lowing and a man shouting angrily, "You stupid brat! I cannot believe you get yourself knocked out and my tiger stolen! You were supposed to protect the animals from thieves, you useless street rat!"

Rumple hurried forward, knowing full well that an angry master often beat his indentured servants like property. Indeed, he grabbed the short fat man by the arm just before it would have descended and smacked the child lying on the ground at his feet, a skinny waif who reminded him of Jack though the boy was dark to Jack's fair coloring. "Hold it, dearie! No sense smacking around the boy when the horse has left the barn, eh?"

The fat man, Sharif Osama, whirled upon the unexpected visitor. "Sir, I am sorry you had to see this, but my servant here—worthless creature—has just informed me that thieves struck him from behind and made off with a valuable tiger I had in my menagerie. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, if you are Sharif Osama," Rumple said, releasing the man's arm. Now that he had an audience, he knew Osama wouldn't try and hurt Aladdin. Like Rumple's father, he didn't want witnesses when he disciplined the boy.

"I am, honored sir," Osama said, giving the sorcerer an oily smile. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Rumplestiltskin Gold, perhaps you've heard of me?"

Osama bowed. "But of course! You are the subject of much fame, great sorcerer! I am honored to have met you."

Behind him, Aladdin gasped and sat up, rubbing his head. What was Jasmine's father doing here?

Suddenly, a beautiful woman wearing a blue dress came into view. She stared at the boy on the ground before she came over and knelt beside him, saying gently, "You poor thing! You're bleeding and you've hurt your head."

"It's nothing you need concern yourself with, lady," Osama began. "That's just my servant boy, Aladdin."

Belle's eyes flashed. "He is in need of medical care, sir! Which I can provide."

"It's just a bump on the head. He's had worse." Osama said dismissively.

"Free of charge!" Belle snapped.

"Master Osama, this is my wife, Belle. She is a Healer, she can fix up your boy while we talk," Rumplestiltskin said in his most persuasive tones. He pulled the caravan master off towards a gaudily lit wagon, leaving Belle to tend to Aladdin, knowing if he didn't, Osama might need tending himself once Belle got through with him. He didn't care for the oily man at all, having known many like him, but he would do what he must for the sake of his daughter.

Belle gently examined the bruise and small cut on Aladdin's forehead, her hands cool and soothing against his flushed skin. "That's a nasty bump you have there, boy. It needs ice and some of my bruise salve."

"Oh, you needn't go through any trouble on my account, my lady. I'll be fine," Aladdin said, unaccustomed to having anyone fuss over him this way.

"You sound like one of my sons," Belle said, examining the boy's dark eyes and then asking if he felt dizzy or nauseous. "They won't admit they need help even if they're crawling on the ground sometimes. Silly boys and their pride!" She pressed gently on his ribcage. "Does that hurt?"

"No."

She moved her hand, palpitating his stomach. "How about here?"

"No, my lady. I just feel a little dizzy and my head aches."

Belle frowned. "I'd like to have you come up to the castle, where I can treat you properly."

Aladdin shook his head. "Oh, please, lady, I don't need—"

"Don't you be telling me what you need," she shook a finger at him. "What's your name?"

"Aladdin."

"Aladdin, I'm Belle Gold, and healing is what I do. I don't like the idea of that head wound of yours, and perhaps after my husband is done with your master, he can bring you to the castle for me. How did you hit your head? It looks like you ran into something."

Aladdin winced. "Uh . . . sort of."

"I see. Well, you just sit here quietly with me until Rum comes back," Belle said, then she sat down beside him and much to his shock, pulled his head onto her lap.

Aladdin coughed. "Ma'am, nobody's done this for me since my mother died when I was almost too little to remember her."

Belle smoothed the hair away from his forehead, which bore a nasty reddish purple bruise. "Then I'd say it's about time someone did. Now lie still and try to rest."

Aladdin closed his eyes and tried to do what she said. After all, it wasn't everyday a street rat got to put his head in a pretty lady's lap like this.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Osama led Rumple to his wagon, where he invited the sorcerer inside and poured him a cup of kumiss, or fermented mare's milk, a common drink of the desert peoples. "Here, honored sir! Taste the milk of the desert and avail yourself of my humble abode." He handed Rumple a cup, fairly oozing with charm.

He reminded Rumple of a coiled viper, pretty to look at, but waiting for the moment to sink his fangs into an arm. The sorcerer took the cup, and pretended to sip it, acting as if he swallowed, though none of the potent drink passed his lips. But he had to keep up the façade of hospitality. Rumple took a seat on a thick plump cushion with a backrest and, laying his cane down beside him, said, "I couldn't help overhearing you, caravan master, when I came over. You were yelling something about a tiger being stolen, correct?"

"Yes, it is most distressing. My prize tiger went missing this afternoon while I napped and that rotten little sneak Aladdin was supposed to be guarding the animals." Osama said, taking a gulp of his own cup of kumiss.

"He seems a little young for guard duty," Rumple remarked. "What is he, ten?"

"About that. Of course, who can tell with these orphan brats? Some of them never even knew their own mothers. I took him in and made him my servant out of the goodness of my heart, sir, and this is how he repays me—with laziness! I found a bag of gold inside the tiger's empty cage and Aladdin lying stunned before it. The wretch tells me that he was knocked out by some thieves who must have taken the tiger."

"How terrible! But, my good man, I believe I can resolve your dilemma."

"How?"

"You see, my children have recently acquired a tiger, specifically, my daughter, who found it wandering near the castle."

"But sir, that is my tiger!" Osama cried, beaming. "Oh, how fortunate! It escaped the thieves and came to you. Where is it now?"

"I have it up at my castle. But . . . my daughter has grown attached to it. And I'm rather . . . indulgent when it comes to her, I'm afraid, like many fathers with little girls." Rumple looked faintly ashamed as he said this.

"Oh, yes, sir! I understand completely. I, too, was a father once. To a beautiful little girl who, alas, died of a fever several years ago. It is why I took in that orphan street rat, because he reminds me a little of her," Osama said.

Rumple wanted to sneer, for he knew the man was lying through his teeth. But all he said was, "You have my condolences. But now I've put you in a pickle, all right. I would like to return this tiger to you, but I dread my daughter's unhappiness if I do so. Therefore, I propose to make you a deal, Sharif Osama."

Osama licked his lips. "What sort of deal, great one? You must understand, that tiger is like my own son, I treat all my animals so, and it would break my heart to part with the tiger."

"Ah, but what if I offered you a new tiger to replace the old one? Plus a sum of . . . one hundred and fifty gold pieces to cover your anxiety when the beast went missing. Is that a fair deal?"

"Oh, great one, I regret I cannot part with the tiger . . ."

"How about a new tiger, more rare than your old one, one hundred and fifty gold pieces, _and_ I shall charm your cages so no thieves can get at your animals. Would that be worth the price of a single old tiger?"

"A magical charm, you say?" Osama's face lit up with sheer greed.

"One that will last forever," Rum told him, knowing then he had the greedy scum. "My word as an archmagus on it."

"Let us say . . . two hundred gold pieces," Osama bargained, a gleam in his eye. "And I would have to see the tiger you would give me. The last one was a beautiful specimen, the finest I have ever owned."

"One seventy-five," Rumple offered.

"One sixty," Osama countered.

"One fifty-five."

"Done! Now where is this tiger?" Osama demanded.

"I will call him to your cage in the menagerie," Rumple said. He rose and led the way outside to the tiger cage. Belle sat on the ground with Aladdin's head in her lap.

Rumple gestured and whispered something in an arcane language. Purple magic arced from his hands and an odd hole opened up and a large white tiger walked through into the cage. "There! A new tiger, a rare white one, to replace the one my daughter's taken a fancy to. As well as one hundred and fifty-five gold pieces." He gestured and a bag filled with gold came to rest at Osama's feet. Then he witched the locks on all the cages. "And magical locks on all your cages. Is that not a fair deal, Sharif?"

Osama's eyes were alight with greed. "Indeed, great sorcerer!" He picked up the bag of gold and hugged it to him. "Bargain struck!"

Rumple grabbed the greedy caravan master's hand and shook it, and so the deal was sealed.

"But what of your servant boy here?" Belle demanded angrily. "Is he not deserving of your care?"

Osama glanced down at her, a faint sneer curling his lips. "What do I look like, a nursemaid?"

"Allow me to take him up to the castle for a few hours, just to make sure he's not seriously injured," Belle argued. "Dead, he's of no use to you."

"True. Very well, take the brat for three hours. Just don't blame me if he steals from you while he's there."

"I'd never!" Aladdin said, but his response was muffled because his face was half-buried in Belle's skirt.

"Rum, can you . . .?" Belle began.

Rum knelt down and picked up the boy, who weighed almost nothing. "Gods, boy, what have you been eating, air?" he muttered.

"Sometimes," Aladdin muttered.

Belle stood up and put her arm around Rum's waist. "Okay. I'm ready," she told her husband.

Rum put his head down and concentrated and within the drawing of three breaths was back in the castle courtyard, along with his two passengers.

Aladdin stared at the Dark Castle. "You . . . live here?"

"We do. It's a bit drafty sometimes, but it's home," Rumple replied. "Where do you want him, Belle?"

"Bring him into the sitting room, Rum. It's easier for him to rest there," Belle instructed. "Oh, and see if Jack has some spare clothes, these are like rags."

"You don't have to go through all this trouble," Aladdin protested.

"Nonsense, lad. As a guest, you get the full treatment," Rumple said, carrying him inside the castle.

A few quick words and Aladdin found himself given a whole tunic, trousers and a shirt, in shades of brown and green. Belle directed him to the bathroom so he could change, and when he came out, she had an ice pack to put on his head and some willowbark tea for him to drink, plus Ivy had made him a bowl of chicken soup and a bacon, tomato, and cheese sandwich, along with a glass of milk.

The food was the best he'd ever eaten, and he didn't even mind the bitter medicine, because Belle gave him a cup of cocoa afterwards, as well as a slice of apple pie. He was propped up on three soft pillows and a crocheted green afghan was placed around him.

If he didn't know better, he'd have thought this all a beautiful dream. He felt like a prince in a palace.

"Now you just have a nice nap, and if you need anything, call Ivy, she's closest, in the kitchen," Belle said.

Then she went upstairs with Rum to tell Jasmine that Rajah was safe from Osama and that Aladdin was downstairs on the settle.

"Here in our castle, Papa?" she gasped.

"Yes. Your mom insisted he come back here to rest for a few hours. He had a nasty bump on his head and was knocked out before we came there."

"Knocked out?" Jasmine cried in alarm. "But . . . did his master do that? Aladdin called him a tyrant."

"No, he claims he got that bump on the head from thieves," Rum said.

"Thieves?" Jasmine's eyes widened.

"Between you and me, dearie, I think he did it to himself," her father said softly.

"Oh! But that's terrible!" Jasmine cried. "I never should have asked him to help me."

"That—that Osama is terrible!" Belle said as she came into the study. "Rum, isn't there something we can do to help the poor boy?"

"The only way I can do something is if I can see the original contract Osama drew up between them. Otherwise, I can only do so much," Rumple sighed.

"But Papa, Aladdin said he had his contract. He kept it because he didn't trust Osama," Jasmine piped up.

"Does he? Then would you ask him if I may examine it?" her father asked.

"Am I allowed to go to him by myself?" Jasmine asked Belle.

"You may. Your punishment won't begin until tomorrow," her mother answered.

Jasmine raced down the stairs, eager to see her new friend.

When the girl had gone, Belle turned to Rum and said, "I wish we could take the boy away from that horrible man!"

"Yes, I know. But if the contract is legally binding, there's not much I can do, since though slavery is illegal here, indentured servitude isn't slavery and it is permitted."

"Rum, I think that man is beating him!" Belle said hotly.

The sorcerer nodded. "That would be my guess as well. I don't like it any better than you. But first I have to see the contract. I have a feeling it's not an ordinary one."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Jasmine came into the sitting room and found Aladdin lying on the settle, looking a bit pale against the white pillows, with a large ice pack on his head. "Aladdin, what happened?"

Aladdin opened his eyes, for though he was tired, he didn't want to sleep. "Hey, princess! It's not as bad as it looks. I . . . did it to myself, so Osama the Obnoxious wouldn't suspect anything."

"I never meant for you to hurt yourself because of me!" Jasmine cried. "I should have told my parents from the beginning about Rajah. I'm sorry I ever asked you to steal my tiger for me. I made you get in trouble."

"Whoa!" Aladdin held up a hand. "I wanted to help you, remember? Osama's a viper and I was glad I could stick it to him. I never expected your parents to get involved."

"If it concerns one of their children, they're _always_ involved," Jasmine said. "Oh, and my papa asked if you'd mind him looking at your contract. Maybe he can free you from Osama."

Aladdin looked startled. "I doubt that. But . . . give this to him," He reached into a pocket of his new tunic and withdrew a folded piece of parchment.

Jasmine took it. Then she turned and dashed upstairs again to give the paper to Rum.

Rum took the contract and spread it out on his desk while Belle watched. He unlocked a drawer in his desk and removed a small gold box, inside it was some sorcerer's sand. Rumple took some and sprinkled it over the document.

The document flared a brilliant blue before flickering and going out.

"Rum? What's that mean?" Belle asked.

"It means, dearie, that the contract is both legally and magically binding. Somewhere, Osama got a dark sorcerer to witch the contract, so that if Aladdin breaks it, bad luck and trouble will hound him forever," Rumple said darkly.

"No! There's nothing you can do?"

"Well, I can't undo the contract, it's already taken hold of the boy and if I try tampering with it, I could kill him. The contract also binds his master, so that, even if he wished, he cannot let the boy go until after seven years are served. What I _can _do is alter it somewhat, making Aladdin get a better deal out of it," the sorcerer replied.

"Such as?"

"Such as Osama must treat him better than he would his own son, and give him all the necessities, like good food and decent clothing, and no beatings and a roof over his head. He must also teach him his trade, so that the boy knows how to make a living when his time is up. Also, they are to return here every year and I can see how the boy is doing." As Rumple spoke, he used a magical pen to add several lines to the contract, altering the deal. "It's the best I can do. Even I can't break every magical binding, dearie."

"What you've done is better than nothing, Rum. At least he'll be safe now."

"From Osama, that is," Rumple said.

He put the pen away and refolded the indenture papers.

"When will the changes start to take effect?" Belle wanted to know.

"Immediately. Osama will find he cannot raise a hand against the boy ever and that he must treat him well. Better even than one of his own sons. I can't make the greedy bastard love the boy, but I can prevent him from hurting Aladdin physically, mentally, and emotionally."

"It's too bad we couldn't . . . adopt him."

"Belle . . . I wouldn't mind doing so, but the contract's magic binds him too harshly. So I did the next best thing and made Osama treat him like he was family. The changes will last the duration of his years working for Osama, and when Aladdin at last turns seventeen, they'll become null and void, though by then Aladdin should be able to choose his own destiny." He gave her the paper.

"I'll tell him about it," Belle said.

"You do that, dearie, while I rest for awhile. Those multi-person transportation spells really take it out of me," her husband said.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Aladdin was shocked when Belle told him what Rumplestiltskin had done. "I . . . don't understand. Why would . . . he do anything for me? I'm nobody important."

"Every child is important!" Belle argued. "He would have done more except for the magic that binds the contract to you."

"Osama's friends with an evil sorcerer named Jafar. He must have bound the contract with magic." Aladdin said. "Thank you for helping me, my lady."

"I only wish we could do more," Belle said sadly.

"You've done more than enough," Aladdin said. "More than anyone has in a long time."

"Rest, please. Rum will take you back to Osama when it's time," Belle urged.

Aladdin yawned. "You know, I do feel sort of sleepy." An instant later his eyes closed.

"Will he be all right . . .Mom?" Jasmine asked diffidently, trying out the new title.

"I think so, Jasmine. What made you decide to call me that?"

The nine-year-old came up to her. "Because you acted like my real mother would have and . . . seeing him makes me realize that I'm lucky to have a family like I do, and a mom who loves me the way my other one used to."

Belle hugged her, her heart full of joy. This day had started out bad and ended up well, a fact for which she was now extremely grateful for. She wondered what tomorrow would bring.


	33. Broken Arrow

**33**

**Broken Arrow**

Once the rest of the family found out about Rajah, they were both shocked and excited. Shocked because Jasmine's tiger had returned, and excited because this was the first really exotic pet they'd ever had around the castle. Jasmine made sure to introduce Rajah to each member of the family and also the other pets—Baron, Puss, Rowan, and the horses. The horses, except for Steady, shied away from the tiger, but the other animals, especially Puss, made friends with the huge cat. It was a funny sight, to see the large tiger sprawled upon the hearth and next to him, or even on him, was a small gray and white cat.

Jack, Nick, and Peter, usually the troublemakers of the family, were quite surprised at the hot water Jasmine had gotten herself into. When Jack heard the story of how she had gotten Aladdin to help her steal Rajah, he said, "Gosh, Jasmine, that sounds like something I'd have done."

"Yeah, and you being in trouble is almost as shocking as if June were in trouble," Nick muttered. "I nearly keeled right over when I heard."

"I didn't _plan_ on getting in trouble, Nick," Jasmine said, blushing, for this was after almost five days of her punishment.

"I guess even you good girls make mistakes sometimes," Peter had laughed.

"Jasmine, can I take Rajah down to the lake?" asked Clary, she had tied a ribbon around the big tiger's neck and was leading him all over with it.

Oddly enough, Rajah put up with it, and also the other indignity of the child decorating his studded collar with rosebuds and letting the little girl brush him like she did Rowan and Puss.

"Clarissa, you can only go by the lake if one of your brothers or Ariel is with you," Belle reminded the intrepid youngster.

"Okay, Mama! Ariel, you wanna come? We can watch Rajah swim and fish."

Ariel grinned. "Do you know how to fish, Clary?"

"Yeah. Jack showed me."

"But you can't bait your own hook," Finn reminded her. "I'll do that for you." He looked at Ariel. "I know you like water, but do you like fishing? Or is it against the mer code of conduct or something?"

"No. My people eat certain varieties of fish, clams, skates, and even on occasion a shark at a feast or eels, squid, and octopus. We also eat plankton, seaweed, and other sorts of vegetation and even a sort of grain. The only fish we don't eat are those which are intelligent, sharks, barracuda, and of course the seals, whales, and dolphins who are our allies. I can catch a fish by tickling it."

"You'll have to show me," said Finn eagerly.

"Me too!" said Clary.

"Me three!" said Phillip.

Rajah just huffed once.

So Clary, Phillip, Ariel, Finn, and Rajah all trooped down to the freshwater lake in the back of the castle to swim in the cool water and watch Ariel tickle trout for dinner.

Jasmine sighed longingly and watched the other children leave, then she stayed next to Belle and helped the Healer bottle some lavender and rose water to sell along with the potions at their booth that Wednesday.

Down at the pond, Rajah swam in the cool water while Ariel demonstrated her ability to catch a trout with her bare hands. All of them thought it was awesome, and though Phillip tried, he couldn't seem to get the hang of it. Clary almost got a small one, and Finn managed it after about seven tries.

"But I'd better stick to a line and a hook," the minstrel said. "That water's too cold, it makes my fingers freeze up."

"Aren't you cold, Ari?" asked Clary innocently.

"No. The mer are never cold in water," Ariel told her.

"Can't you use magic to fish, Finn?" asked Phillip, for he was fascinated with it, and still wished he had some.

"Uh, I guess, but it's kind of like cheating to do it that way," Finn replied. "It's almost too easy. I tried it once, and I just didn't feel right doing it." he carefully baited a hook with a nightcrawler and tied it onto a small line. Then he tied the line onto an ashwood pole and tossed it into the lake. "Here, Clary. You hold this while I do one for Phil and me."

Once all their hooks were baited and cast out, they could relax. The three sat on the bank and held their poles in their hands while Rajah swam and Ariel put her feet in the water and splashed them on occasion.

Soon they had a few fish each, though Ariel had to help Clary catch hers, and Finn did the same for Phillip when his line tangled in a stick, and Ariel said they should go back and let Ivy prepare them, but first she and Finn cleaned them and removed the bones from them using a technique Ariel's people had perfected.

"Do the mer have recipes for fish?" Finn asked, carrying his six fish on a line he'd threaded through their mouths.

"Um . . . not any you'd eat. We mostly eat them with a dash of sea salt raw," Ariel chuckled.

"Raw fish?" Clary wrinkled her nose. "Yuck!"

"Actually, they don't taste fishy when you eat them fresh," Ariel said.

Finn looked curious. "I'll try anything once. Maybe sometime you can make some for me."

"If you want," Ariel said.

As they entered the kitchen and gave Ivy their bounty, they found the kitchen witch looking out the window, staring across the broad expanse of the fields with an odd look on her face.

"Something wrong, Ivy?" asked Finn.

"No . . . not wrong, but . . . I've been getting strange packages lately in the window sill," his sister mused.

"Like what?" asked Ariel.

"Well, one day it was a bunch of herbs that I could use to cook with. Another day it was some lemon balm oil in a small stoppered jar. Today it was a bunch of Sweet William and wildflowers and they were wrapped in a pretty lace handkerchief."

"But was there a note with them or something?" Finn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. But I can never seem to catch whoever's bringing them," Ivy said.

"Maybe you have a secret admirer," Ariel laughed. "Among my people, that was considered an accepted way to court someone, especially if you were shy and couldn't talk to the person you liked."

"I guess so. But who could it be? I know most of the boys in town my age and none of them seem shy . . . or willing to talk about anything except swordfights and stuff like that."

Finn shrugged. "Maybe one day if you get up early you could find out."

"I'll try," Ivy said, though she didn't bother to mention that she'd done just that a few days ago and hadn't seen anything. She had a sneaking suspicion the reason she couldn't see who had been leaving her presents was because the someone had magic, but so far her guess remained unproven.

She looked at the fish her siblings had brought her and said, "I think I'll do these two ways tonight. One with stuffed breadcrumbs, bacon, and onions, and the other with simple seasonings, spinach, and butter. How's that sound?"

"I can't wait to eat it!" Phillip said. "And usually I hate fish, but not when you cook it, Ivy!"

"Yeah!" Clary nodded. "Ivy cooks the bestest!" She grinned at her sister. "Can we have potatoes and cheese too?"

"Sure, that's easy to make," Ivy said, happy to hear that her picky sister and brother liked her cooking . . . most of the time.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rajah was a five hundred pound tiger, and a tiger that large took a lot of food to keep healthy. Rumplestiltskin had bargained with the butcher of Valley Way, a stout man called Hal Stutsman, to have three large bulls and three sheep sent up to the castle twice a week to feed the big cat, and sometimes Rafe and Peter supplemented the meat with part of a deer or some birds as well.

One evening just after Jasmine's punishment had ended, most of the Gold family was gathered in the sitting room. Jasmine was lying on the hearth rug next to Rajah and telling Phillip some more stories from her homeland, this one was about Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Phillip was lying on Baron, who was snoozing next to the tiger.

Nick, Nora, and Tom were all playing a board game where you had to have one peg remaining out of thirteen. Peter and Jack were playing a game called Knights and Castles, where the object was to conquer your neighbor's kingdom with your own army.

Ivy was reading an adventure story for once instead of cooking, like Kristen, Belle, June, and Elaina, who were in the kitchen, making sugared rose petals. Next to her on the settle, Rafe was fletching some arrows, while his dog Rowan sat on his feet.

Finn quietly played his flute, while Aurora watched Rumple spinning some straw into gold upon his spinning wheel.

The master magician calmly spun the basketful of straw beside his feet, his hands glinting with gold and purple flecks as he worked. The spinning wheel went _whir whir,_ a soothing sound that lulled most of his children into a sleepy kind of doze.

Just then Clary came downstairs, followed by Ariel, who had been giving the little girl a bath. Clary wore one of her pink ruffled nightgowns and carried her fuzzy slippers under her arm. Ariel carried a half-knitted scarf she was working on.

Ariel settled on a small bench beneath the light of a mageglobe lantern, and began knitting, a skill she had recently acquired which Aurora had taught her.

Clary crossed the room and stood next to her father, watching him spin and saying, "Papa, can I do that?"

Rum turned to look at her, all rosy-cheeked and smelling like lavender and vanilla from her bath, and smiled. "Not yet, little imp. You're too little to reach the treadle and spin at the same time. And why aren't you wearing your slippers? Your feet will freeze on this floor."

Clary shrugged. "I was busy watching you and I forgot."

Rum lifted her onto his lap and put first one slipper and then the other on her tiny feet. Then he handed her some straw and said, "You give me straw when I need some, Clary-belle. That way you can watch and help me like a big girl."

"Okay, Papa! Now spin some more!" Clary said, happily holding the straw and leaning back against her father's chest.

Rum continued spinning, feeding the straw into the wheel with the precision of long practice, his magic working with barely a thought to transmute the straw into gold, a trick he had learned long ago, and which kept his family fed and clothed and able to purchase small luxuries.

Another basket on the opposite side of his wheel was filled with spools of gold.

Only two of his brood were absent that night. Bae and Rennie were out walking, enjoying the fine summer night and the beautiful blue tinted moon that lit up the night sky.

Soon Belle and the girls came into the room, passing around plates with the sugared rose petals for a treat, along with cups of tea.

Belle came to stand next to her husband, and she gently fed him and Clary some rose petals, making the pair lick their lips and Clary say, "Mmm! I like those sugar flowers!"

"So do I, dearie!" Rum agreed, gently sucking a flower off of Belle's finger with a naughty smirk.

Her blue eyes glinting, Belle whispered, "Now behave, Rum!" to her mischievous husband and then ate a petal herself.

Into this tranquil domestic scene burst Rennie, looking frantic, her dark hair all windblown and wild. "Mom! Papa! Come quick! Bae and I were out walking near the woods and we found a boy bleeding and unconscious lying in the wheat field! Bae says he was wounded by a sword and he's bringing him here now."

Everyone halted what they were doing to stare at the usually composed Serenity and Belle immediately set down the plate of rose petals and said, "Ren, fetch my bag. I'm going to need it. And let me scrub my hands and put on my apron."

As Belle rushed over to the sink in the kitchen to scrub her hands and arms, Rum gently set Clary down on his wheel and said, "Stay here, poppet. Papa's going to get some sheets and towels and some other things to help Mama."

Clary looked up at him and asked softly, "Is the hurt boy gonna be okay?"

"I don't know yet, Clary. That's why I need to go now," Rum said. "You stay here and watch my wheel, all right?"

"Can I eat some more roses?"

"Yes, but not too many." Then he turned and limped hurriedly out of the sitting room and towards one of the closets in the hall where they stored spare sheets and towels.

By the time Bae came into the house, carrying the limp form of a boy dressed in a green and brown blended tunic and breeches over his shoulder, Belle and Rum had managed to turn the kitchen into a makeshift surgery, much as they had done when Phillip and Rafe were injured.

Belle was wearing an apron over her purple day dress and also a cotton mask and had put her hair up into a bun. Over her hands were a pair of very thin gloves Rum had made magically for her, a new invention just in case she needed to perform an operation. Her instruments were laid out neatly on a clean cloth upon the table.

Rum, as her assistant, also wore an apron and had tied his hair up as well. He had cleaned his hands with a spell and stood ready to help his wife as needed, either with magic or another pair of hands.

"Set him down gently, Bae," Belle told her eldest.

Bae did so, setting him down upon the sheet draped table. His shirt was stained with blood. "I hope you can save him," he said, then added, "I need to change out of this. I'm all over blood, he's bleeding like ten hells. I'll come back after if you need me."

As Bae went upstairs to get fresh clothing, Belle asked Rum to take her scissors and cut away the youth's shirt, which was wet with blood. "Goodness, he's only a boy, Rum! No older than Ivy."

The boy was white, his dark hair like ink against his terribly pale skin, his coal black lashes like soot against his cheeks. Belle listened to his pulse while Rum cut, finding it rather weak and thready. "We need to stop the bleeding, Rum, or we'll lose him."

There was a long deep wound in his left side from which blood was pumping at an alarming rate.

"Give me a minute, dearie." Her husband said, removing the shirt before he put his hands over the wound. Purple magic danced along his fingers as he used his power to make the blood halt and stop pouring from the wound until Belle could mend it. "There! Now what?"

"He's very weak and in shock," Belle said. "I need some water and disinfectant, that wound needs to be cleaned before I stitch it closed." She studied the long slash and said, "Bae was right. This is a sword slash. I ought to know, I saw enough of them before Avonlea fell, when my people fought the trolls. He's lucky it didn't go any deeper, otherwise he would have died before Bae found him. He still could, if this wound becomes infected."

Rum brought her hot water in a bowl and clean cloths, as well as a bottle of his magical disinfectant, which was stronger than the vinegar wash she normally used. "Shall I hold him for you?"

Belle nodded. "Can you numb the wound first?"

Rumple started to, but frowned. "Damn it, it's not taking like usual. He has magic, dearie, and it's fighting mine. I can only do it partially."

"Do the best you can then," Belle said. "How about a sleep spell?"

Rum moved then, coming about to the boy's head and putting his hands on the boy's temples. "Sleep, child, and dream no dreams." Again he felt something within the boy rise up and fight with him for a moment, as if the youngster's magic was on alert . . . or he was resistant to charms of sleep. But Rumple's will gradually overrode that of the injured youngster and managed to make the boy sleep.

Belle quickly washed the wound and used the magical potion to cleanse it. Then she used tweezers and a long metal probe to make certain there were no flecks of steel or iron in the wound. But the wound was clean. She threaded a fine metal needle and began to sew, first closing the torn veins and muscle.

The boy shivered and moaned softly. Rum kept his hands upon his head, struggling to keep the boy under his spell. "Easy, lad. Sleep."

Bae returned and helped hold the patient while Belle sewed, her stitches small, precise, and neat. It took over forty stitches to close the wound. Then Belle packed it with some tree moss and smeared a paste of honey and herbs upon it to help keep infection at bay. She laid her hands upon him then and gave him some of her healing energy, hoping it would help him heal better.

"Bae, lift him up so I can wrap this in bandages," she ordered her son.

Bae did so, and Belle wrapped several lengths of linen about the boy's torso. "There! Rum, sit him up a bit. I need to give him a blood restoring tonic and some willowbark for pain."

"He's asleep, dearie. Can you get him to swallow?"

"Yes." Belle said. She peeled off her gloves and picked up the first bottle and a clean straw.

She gently inserted the straw into his mouth, first using it to suck up a small amount of potion. Then she trickled it down his throat, stroking it to ensure he swallowed.

It took several minutes for her to give him both potions and once she was done, she asked Bae to give her a clean shirt to put on him. "One of yours ought to do, it'll be big, but better that than bloodstained."

With Rum's help she removed the boy's bloodstained breeches, boots, and belt. There were various bruises and small cuts upon him also, but none as bad as the sword slash. She carefully washed them and put some salve on them, then pulled Bae's shirt over his head. As she feared, it was big. Swathed in the clean garment, he looked somewhat younger than his fourteen years.

Bae carried him gently upstairs and they put him in the guest bedroom across the hall from Belle and Rum's own room. As Belle pulled the covers over him, Bae said, "I couldn't find a sword, but he had a sheath on his belt. I did find a bow and a quiver with two arrows left in it though."

"He had a knife in his boot," Rumple remarked. "And this in a pouch on his belt." He opened his hands to reveal a white arrow, the head was a gleaming blue point.

"What is that, Rum?" asked Belle.

"It's a sign of peace. The white arrow is carried by ambassadors of the _il'Shennara_. This boy was a messenger, but whoever he bore the white arrow to clearly broke the treaty, since the arrow is broken and he's half dead."

"You called him something, Papa," Bae said.

"_Il'Shennara_," Rumplestiltkin repeated the foreign sounding word. "Roughly translated, it means Folk of the Wood. Or in the common tongue, wood elves."

"He's an _elf_?" Belle exclaimed.

"I thought they were tall and fair and had pointed ears and almond-shaped eyes," Bae remarked.

"Most are. I'd wager this youngster has some of their blood in him," Rum said, gently pulling back some of the raven hair to reveal an ear, which was pointed slightly at the tip and a little larger than a normal human one. "As I thought. A half-blood."

"He does have fine-boned features, now that I look at him," Belle said.

"Yes, and it also explains why he was resistant to my sleep charms," Rumple said. "Most elves have a natural magical defense against such charms and enchantments."

"I wonder who—or what—he was fighting?" Bae mused.

"You can ask him when he wakes up," Belle said. "Right now I hope he sleeps. It's the only way he'll regain his strength."

They were about to leave when Rennie, Ivy, and Rafe came upstairs to see their injured guest.

Rennie had helped Ivy clean up the kitchen and she carried the stranger's bow and quiver and Rafe had his boots and belt. Ivy brought a glass of water, just in case he woke and was thirsty.

The three entered the room and quietly placed the belongings in the corner next to the bed. As Ivy went to put the water down on the nightstand, she looked over at the wounded boy and gasped. Water sloshed over her hand as she stared down at the sleeping warrior.

"Ivy? What's wrong, dearie?" queried her father.

"Nothing, Papa. Except . . . I _know_ him. I met him at the Midsummer Festival, at the dance. He . . . he asked me to dance with him and I did. Several times. But he was mysterious, and wanted me to guess his name."

"And did you?"

"No. There was . . . a warrior who came, and he said he had to leave. But before he did he said I could call him . . . _Myrnin._"

"Hmm. That sounds like an elvish name . . . except . . . I don't think it's his whole name," Rumple mused. "I know names, dearie, and that could be an alias. Or a nickname."

"Maybe he only has a partially elvish name because he's only a half-blood," Belle said. "You can ask him about it when he's coherent again. For now, let him sleep. I'll keep watch over him tonight."

"I can help," Ivy offered.

"And I will too," Rumple said, not wanting to leave the two women alone with a strange warrior, even if he was seriously injured.

Then they all left Myrnin asleep and went back downstairs to tell the rest of the family about the wounded half-blood before going to bed.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Myrnin slept fitfully, his dreams drenched in blood and fire. Again and again, he relived the meeting with the night elves, _dwarrow,_ "dark ones" in the tongue of his people, approaching the delegation with the white arrow of peace in his outstretched palms. He had been his father's designated ambassador, the first time he'd ever been given a position of importance as a member of his father's court, sent to treat with their ancient enemies to avoid a war that had been brewing for months over a stretch of land the night elves claimed for their own.

That land contained ancient mines of silveron, the silvery metal that all the people used to craft their blades and arrowheads and cups and plates, an amalgam of silver and some other kind of metal that was not harmful like iron to them. The night elves claimed it as part of their territory, the _il'Shennara_ said it belonged to them.

In order to avoid bloodshed, Myrnin's father had sent his youngest son along with Puck and the white arrow to broker a peace and try to avoid a war.

But they had been betrayed. Betrayed and ambushed.

Myrnin moaned and thrashed as he recalled slim dark-skinned warriors springing at them from all sides . . . intent upon destroying them, for peace was not in their vocabulary. They would have war, and destroy their ancient cousins once and for all.

In his hands, the white arrow shattered in two . . . and Puck shoved him aside, his blade meeting the enemy's that would have cut his young charge in two . . .

_"Avarte dwarrow, Puck!"_ (Beware the night elves, Puck!) Myrnin shouted, flinging out an arm. "_Avarte!"_(Beware!) His forehead was beaded with sweat, his cheeks flushed with fever.

Belle rose and swabbed his face with a cold damp cloth, murmuring, "Shh! That's the fever talking."

"What's he saying?" asked Ivy, alarmed.

"I don't know, he's babbling. It's the fever," Belle said.

More words poured from the boy's mouth as he fought the night elves that surrounded him in his mind.

His hands suddenly glowed with eldritch fire.

"Mom! Get away!" Ivy cried, and pulled Belle backwards just as the blue fire arced from the delirious Myrnin's hands and hit the wall with a sharp crackle.

"Dear gods!" Belle said.

"What happened?" asked Rumple, coming into the room.

Before Ivy could answer, he felt the boy's magic, out of control and impossibly strong, and he thrust out his hands, calling his own magic into play.

Purple fire encased the boy's hands, and Rumple said, in a soft but stern tone, "_Silaesha, amrael! Silaesha!" (_Easy, friend, easy!)

The boy's eyes opened, but they were blazing with fever, and they did not see anything save the foes in his memory.

"_Corath al muerte, taishith! Vrekarit, dwarrow!"_ (I will kill you, traitor! Filthy night elf!)Myrnin yelled, trying to free himself from Rumplestiltskin's hold.

"Rum! Can you calm him down?" Belle cried. "He'll tear open his wound. He's too weak to be going crazy like this."

"I'm trying, dearie! But he thinks he's fighting whoever in the hells did this to him, and he's damn strong," Rumple said. "_Silaesha, maia amrael, lirin!_" (Easy, I'm a friend, boy!) he said, trying again to soothe the frantic patient.

Myrnin relaxed a fraction, and then Ivy called, "Myrnin! It's me, Ivy. Remember me? On midummer's eve? You're safe now. Safe. With me. Now calm down."

The boy blinked, turning his head slightly. "Ivy," he whispered.

"Yes, that's right. Now sleep." She went and laid a hand upon his forehead.

He gave her a lopsided smile, then he sagged back down onto the pillows, asleep once more.

"He's burning up, Mom!" she cried then.

"I know. We need to get him to drink more tea and bathe him with cold cloths," Belle said.

Rumple frowned. "Wait, Belle. He's out of his head, he could hurt you with his magic."

"He's sick, Rum! I can't leave him like this."

Rumple chanted something in the soft hissing language of magic and a pair of silvery bracers appeared in his hands. He brought them over to the comatose Myrnin and said, "Sorry, lad. But I can't risk you harming my wife or my daughter."

"Papa!" Ivy cried, her face screwed up in a mask of revulsion. "You can't put them on him. Those are Manacles of Suppression!"

"I know what they are, dearie," her father answered. "But I have to bind him. He's too dangerous like this. I'll remove them as soon as he's coherent again." He slipped the silver manacles on each of the boy's slender wrists. They glowed with a white light.

Myrnin whimpered, tossing his head from side to side.

"Yes, I know, lad," the sorcerer said regretfully. "It's never pleasant when someone binds your power. But it's just for a little while. Until you come back to yourself."

"Papa, you're hurting him!" Ivy cried.

"Ivy, they'll sting a little and they'll make him feel weak and achy, but I have to do this. He could accidentally fry you else, and I can't have that," Rum said.

"Come, help me get some water and wet cloths and some more sage tea," Belle said. "The sooner we get his fever down, the sooner those manacles can come off."

Rumple stayed with the delirious child while Belle and Ivy went and got what they needed. He touched the boy's forehead lightly and winced at the heat coming off of it. "You're like a furnace, lad. No wonder you're out of your head."

Belle and Ivy returned and set to work bathing the patient's forehead and neck with cool wet cloths and Rum helped Belle while she gave Myrnin some more sage tea, which was good for fevers, with a straw. She also gave him some water.

Myrnin slept, his fever rose and fell, and Belle feared for his life.

She unwrapped his wound and poured more antibacterial potion on it, parts of it were red and swollen. "Rum, his wound, this isn't natural . . . it could have been poisoned by the sword that cut him . . ."

"Yes, the night elves are known for their poisons," Rum said. "He talked about them. That's what the word "dwarrow" means."

Ivy gasped in horror. "Papa! He can't die."

"Rum, what about one of your potions?" Belle queried. "Do you have any that will neutralize poison?"

"Yes. I have one vial left. It's in my apothecary chest." He limped out of the room.

He returned a moment later with a clear vial in which a green potion glittered. Unstoppering it, he poured some directly upon the ugly swollen wound. The wound began to lose some of the swelling and redness.

"I think it's working!" Ivy said.

"Yes, but not quick enough," Belle said. "Can it be drunk?"

"Yes. Let me sit him up for you, dearie," Rum said, and moved behind the comatose Myrnin, gently sitting him up and holding him while Belle administered the rest of the potion with her straw.

Myrnin's breathing seemed to ease afterwards and the hectic red flush faded from his cheeks.

"He looks better already," the Healer said. She continued bathing his face and neck with the wet cloths.

"Yes, he's a fighter," Rumple said, covering the wound with the bandages.

Finally the persistent fever broke somewhere around three in the morning.

"I think he'll be all right now," Belle said wearily.

"Yes. Now you need some sleep too," Rum said.

Belle looked over at her patient, who had fallen into a deep sleep at last. Then she looked at Ivy, who had also fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed . . . holding Myrnin's hand. "I _am_ exhausted, Rum. And he's in good hands." She followed her husband to their bedroom.

"I didn't know you spoke wood elf," she said, yawning, as she got into her nightclothes.

"Very little, dearie. I only learned it in case I happened on one while roaming the Mystic Woods," Rumple told her as he pulled the covers over them. "I suppose it came in handy."

"Uh huh. Good night, love," Belle murmured, then she fell asleep against his shoulder.

Rumple caressed her hair, then he snuggled beside her and soon he was also asleep.


	34. Sorcerer's Wisdom

**34**

**Sorcerer's Wisdom**

Myrnin slept for most of that day and the day after. Belle, Ivy, and Rumple tended to him, giving him potions for pain and fever, though his fever never returned to the dangerously high state he had first been in. Belle checked his wound twice a day, re-bandaging it and gently cleaning it and replacing the honey and moss salve as needed. Half the time, the boy remained in a twilight state, only half-aware of the care he was getting.

Ivy sat beside him when her meal preparations were over, reading and sometimes talking to him aloud, telling him he was safe and he would get well soon. At those times he seemed to rest easier, sleeping more peacefully, as if her voice drove away the ghosts that haunted him.

Finally, on the third day, he woke fully, opening his hazel eyes and wincing, for he'd awakened just as Belle was changing the dressing on the sword slash and checking the stitches. "Hey! Oww! What—" he began, trying to sit up, but Rum put his hands on his shoulders and pinned him gently to the mattress.

"Relax, lad, and lie still. You've got a hole in you that's about as big as the Great Ravine in the mountain kingdom yonder, but my wife is making sure it stays closed and there's no infection."

Myrnin hissed as Belle touched the wound lightly and gently slathered some paste on it.

"I'm sorry if I'm hurting you, but right now the wound is tender," Belle apologized. She gently rewrapped the bandages about the slender boy, with Rum picking him up as necessary. "But the good news is there's no sign of infection. My name is Belle Gold, I'm a Healer, and this is my husband, Rum."

"Also known at times as the Gold sorcerer," Rum said, and then removed his hands from the boy's shoulders. "Welcome to the Dark Castle. Can you understand what I'm saying, lad? I only speak a few words of elvish."

Myrnin nodded, moistening his lips. Then he said, "Yes, I speak common. Better than most of my people." He eyed Rumple and said quietly, "Rum is short for Rumplestiltskin, right?"

"It is. And what's your name?"

"Myrnin is what my friends call me," he replied. "Myrnin Stormshadow," he added, giving them his surname, which was a royal one, though he doubted they'd know that. He wasn't lying, for what he'd said was true, only friends and family called him Myrnin, others used the name he'd been born with, along with his title.

"It would seem you know my daughter, Ivy," Rum said, knowing that the boy hadn't told them his full name. Then again, wood elves were often closemouthed and secretive, especially around humans.

"Yes, sir. We met on midsummer's eve, at the dance," Myrnin said. "But I couldn't stay, not like I wanted to." He sighed. "The _Il'Shennara_ . . . we have laws against mingling too much with humans . . . even though I'm half-human myself."

Abruptly, he began scratching at his wrist, where the silver Manacles of Suppression were. "Gods of the wood, but I'm itching like I have fleas! What are these . . . things on me?"

"Sorry, lad. I had to put Manacles of Suppression on you, you were out of your head with a fever and you almost set my wife and daughter on fire with your magic," Rumple said. He gestured to a scorch mark on the wall in front of the bed.

"Did I? Stars and Stones, I'm sorry!" Myrnin apologized. "My magic . . . it's wild, my tutors in the Art never knew what to do with me because of it . . . I'm told part of it's from my human mother and it doesn't . . . meld very well with my father's elven glamourie. I've always had trouble with it." He began scratching his wrist again.

Rumple gently tugged his hand down. "Stop. You'll make yourself bleed. I can remove the manacles, and I will, if you'll give me your word not to harm me or my family as long as you stay here."

"You have it, sir. I promise, my word as a noble of the _Il'Shennara_."

Rumple put his hands over the silver bracers and they quit glowing and he slid them off Myrnin's wrists and sent them back to the lock box in his study. "There!" He frowned as he saw that the skin beneath the bracers was rather red and inflamed. "Hmm . . . you seem to have developed a rash. Belle, do you have something to put on it? Before he scratches himself raw?"

"Yes. Be right back," Belle said, and hurried from the room.

"Looks like you're sensitive to certain kinds of magic," Rum observed.

"I've always been. My brother . . . he could make me sneeze or get hives just by poking me with a glamoured stick," Myrnin said ruefully. "But my allergies have gotten better as I've grown."

"They might disappear altogether when you're an adult," said the sorcerer. "Sometimes such sensitivity means great power, Myrnin."

"Or it's my human "weaknesses" coming out in me, as my father would say," the boy answered. "But I like your theory better."

Belle returned with the salve and gently applied it to the red marks and wrapped them in clean bandages. "Would you like something to eat, Myrnin?"

"Oh, please, I feel so hungry all of a sudden, I could eat a Pegasus," Myrnin said.

Belle chuckled. "Spoken like a typical boy. I'll be right back."

When she had gone, Myrnin shifted about and asked softly, "Sir? Is there . . . umm . . . somewhere I can . . .?"

"Yes, there's a bathroom just near here," Rumple said, seeing the boy turn red as a radish. "Come, let me help you."

Myrnin was about to protest, but when he tried to stand up, his legs trembled worse than a day-old foal's and he was grateful for the cane Rumple lent him, as well as the sorcerer's arm about his waist. Just walking from the bed to the door made him feel exhausted and weak as a starveling kitten.

"Gods, I feel so tired!"

"You nearly died, lad. That's no scratch on you."

"No. The night elves meant killing. I don't know how they didn't succeed, except . . . was there anyone else when you found me?"

"No. You were alone."

Myrnin closed his eyes, squeezing them shut hard. "Oh. I . . . hoped that Puck . . . he's my . . . my guardsman and my friend . . . I thought perhaps . . ."

"My son and his girlfriend found you while they were out walking. How did you come to be in my wheat field anyway?" Then he glanced down at the boy, who seemed to be on the verge of tears, and said softly, "Never mind my nosy questions now. Come on, easy now."

Finally they made it to the bathroom and back, though Myrnin felt as if he'd run five miles afterwards and collapsed on the bed.

Rumple gently moved him until he was resting on the pillows and said, "Feel a little better now?"

"Yes, lots. Thanks for . . . for saving me." He blinked hard, recalling suddenly that while he had been saved . . . Puck had not. Or had he?

"I used an escape spell to get from . . . the _dwarrow's_ hall to here," Myrnin said. "Puck helped, he . . . fought them off so I could . . . but before I used the spell, I missed my parry and one of them cut me . . ." He shivered and blinked again, feeling the unaccustomed sting of tears.

Rum squeezed his knee gently beneath the blankets. "I'm sorry for your loss, lad. Here," he handed the boy a handkerchief. "There's no shame in tears. Not for one you loved."

Myrnin's hand clenched on the handkerchief. "No. Not yet. I can't . . ."

Rumple looked into the hazel eyes, dark with sorrow, and said, "Ah, when you're ready then. Grief has its own timetable."

The boy swallowed sharply, a lump in his throat. He couldn't believe that Puck, his best friend, was gone. Not like that. Not because he'd stupidly led them into a trap. He stared down at the handkerchief and said, "This wasn't supposed to happen. We were under the protection of the white arrow. We should have been safe. But . . . we were betrayed."

Rumple nodded. "A hard thing. Who sent you there to treat with them?"

"My father. He . . . he thought he could prevent another war with them. But . . . they want war . . . and now . . . war is what they'll get. It's probably already started," Myrnin said glumly.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. If they were bold enough to attack me and Puck when we were under the white arrow, they'd probably planned to attack our home as well. My father . . . I hope he and my brother got away before . . ."

"You could send him a letter," suggested Rumple.

Myrnin shook his head. "No. If they've fled, it'd never reach them, not in hiding. Besides, he wouldn't want to hear how I failed."

"Lad, I'm sure he's worried sick over you—"

Myrnin gave a short sharp laugh. "My father? Not a chance! Not over me . . . the half-blood he wishes was never born. Puck, maybe, since he's a cousin."

"I'm sure he's—"

"—more concerned over the survival of my people than his wayward wrong-ways son," Myrnin finished. "Trust me on that. I know him. You don't."

Rumple just shook his head sadly. Clearly the youngster was hurting from more than just the sword slash. He reminded the sorcerer eerily of himself in a way. He had been like that as a child . . . before Jeff's grandmother had made him see himself in a different light.

"I know more than you think, dearie. Ah, family. Sometimes they can hurt you worse than any enemy."

"Yes, is that ever true!" Myrnin snorted. _Especially my family, _he thought darkly. _Which is nothing like yours._ He felt a sudden pang of envy, recalling how he had watched the Gold children from the wood's edge, playing, arguing, laughing together . . . and how he had longed, just for a brief moment, to be a part of it. Only he knew he never could, just as he didn't really fit among the Folk of the Wood either. Betwixt and between, and belonging nowhere, he thought mockingly.

Just then, Belle returned along with Ivy, carrying a tray and Ivy was floating some mugs in front of her with strawberry tea in them. "Hello, Myrnin!" Ivy said upon seeing him awake. "Mom sad you're awake, so I brought you some herbal infused chicken broth and bread and some strawberry tea. Are you feeling better?"

"I am now," he answered, then he flushed at his quick tongue. He took the cup she floated to him, it was a delicate white porcelain one with a blue branch and tiny flower on it. "Thank you, Ivy."

Rumple accepted a cup too and so did Belle and Ivy, after Belle had set the tray down over his lap. Myrnin, who was struggling not to look so . . .endearingly at the sorcerer's daughter in front of the man, stared at the cup in Rumple's hand and said, "Why, your cup has a chip in it, sir!"

Rum nodded, and turned the cup around so the small chip could be seen. "It does indeed, lad. My wife dropped it one day when she was getting some tea. I didn't mend it or throw it out because the chip reminds of something. That no one, even one with magic like I am, is perfect. And also that something good can come out of a mistake."

"Sometimes the best things come out of mistakes," Belle agreed, sitting in the chair next to her husband. "Like our marriage. It's the second one for both of us . . . and the best one."

Myrnin sipped the tea and said, "Mmm. Summer strawberries taste the sweetest."

"I used the ones you sent me," Ivy said, coloring faintly. "That _was_ you, right?"

"Yes. And I sent you the recipe too. Our cook makes that dish, it's one of my favorites. I had my scribe, Eviran, write it for me, because he can write common and I can't."

"But you speak it very well," Ivy said.

"Thanks."

Belle's eyes narrowed suddenly. "If you were the one behind those mysterious packages . . . then did you also help Rafe when he was cut by that stag in the woods? And June and the twins when the Addershag and wargs attacked them?"

"You've caught me, lady," Myrnin admitted. "Yes, I did. The first time, well, I heard the Addershag and wargs howling like nightmares and I came to investigate, because my people are their ancient enemies. I saw your children surrounded, and I did the best I could to draw off a lot of them before Rumplestiltskin rescued them. Then I heard your hound howling and was hunting nearby. So I came to see what was wrong, and found your son lying there, injured. All I did was tie a sock around his leg, my lady."

"You saved his life. But why didn't you stay and let us know?" Belle asked.

"Because it's forbidden for me to have contact with your people," Myrnin answered. "But . . . I don't always follow the rules. Matter of fact, I almost never follow the rules, especially if I think they make no sense. My father thinks I'm a wretched rebel and I deliberately do things to vex him . . . and sometimes I do."

"I would think your father would be proud of you for helping people," Belle said.

"That would be a first," the boy answered. "His philosophy is simple. We leave you alone and you leave us alone . . . although he failed to heed his own advice once. But, well, as you said, we all make mistakes."

"I'd hardly call you a _mistake_!" Ivy cried.

"Thank sunlight and shadow for that," Myrnin said, his hazel eyes sparkling. "But you're more fair-minded than my father, the hidebound traditionalist." He began eating the broth she had made, carefully because it was hot, and inbetween taking small bites of the bread. "This is fit for a king's table," he said after a few more spoonfuls.

Ivy blushed. "You're just saying that."

"No, I really mean it. And I ought to know, having eaten at the king's table more than once," Myrnin said honestly.

"You were the guest of kings?" Ivy stared at him.

"Not by choice, believe me," the boy snickered. "I had to attend. Out of duty. And the only thing I really enjoyed was the food. But this is better. Trust me."

"Then you must be . . . someone important," Ivy probed lightly.

Myrnin raised an eyebrow. "My father is someone important. So is my older brother, Arion. Not me. I'm just . . . Myrnin, the half-blood. And that's how I like it. Being important is overrated."

"Surely, your family must be worried about you by now," Belle said.

Myrnin shrugged. "Perhaps. But they're probably more worried about the invasion of the _dwarrow _that's taking place right now." He looked at Belle. "I owe you my life, lady."

"No. You saved my children. You have paid your debt threefold, young man. You are always welcome here in my home, Myrnin," Belle asserted.

He picked up her hand and kissed it gently. "You have my gratitude then, all of you."

"Spoken like a true courtier," Belle teased.

"Ah, well, some of my lessons in deportment rubbed off on me," Myrnin chuckled.

Belle eyed him searchingly. There was much about him that was a mystery, but she recognized one who had a noble's education at the least. If not more. But she would not press him. As a guest, he deserved her respect, and he had a right to keep his secrets.

"You've had arms training too," Ivy remarked. "My brother Rafe says those arrows you shot the goblins with were perfectly aimed."

"Well, I was given a bow around the time I could walk and taught to shoot it rather soon after that," Myrnin said modestly. "Every wood elf is. And I learned how to handle a sword from Puck, who was my armsmaster as well as my bodyguard."

"But you have magic also," Rum pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm not very good with my control there," Myrnin said.

"That may be something I can help you with," the sorcerer offered.

"Umm . . . well . . ."

"That can wait until he's better, Rum," Belle cut in. "Let the poor boy rest and heal first. And meet the rest of the family."

"Yes, you're right. But first, let's let him eat," Rumple said, and then he rose and went downstairs for some lunch, followed by Belle.

Ivy remained, quietly sipping her tea and smiling. "You see? And you were worried about meeting my parents."

"Well, given what my father's like . . ." Myrnin said.

"My papa is nothing like yours. As you've seen. I'm so glad that you're feeling better. You almost . . . well . . . I was scared you might die . . . your wound, it was poisoned . . . but my father had a potion and it cured you of it and then your fever broke . . . and I'm babbling just like a moonstruck idiot!"

He put a hand over hers, his skin was lighter than hers, and said, "You can babble anytime you like to me, Ivy. Your babbling makes more sense to me than most other girls' conversations."

"Then you must have some very boring girls over there in . . . what do you call your home?"

"Well, most of us just call it the Heart of the Wood, _Gliringlass, _in elvish. We're not much for fancy place names, we tend to call things as they are. For instance, my father's house is just called the Aspen Manse, because it's built in the trunks of several aspens."

"You live in a tree?"

"Some of the time. It's safer that way. There are things in the Mystic Wood that would love to chomp us all to bits. Things nastier than wargs and Addershag."

"Like those . . . _dwarrow_?"

"Night elves, you'd say. They were _il'Shennara_ once, until their greed and lust for power drove them to seek the dark magic, and now . . . now they've been our enemies for centuries."

"But if that's true, why were you trying to make peace with them?"

"Because my father thought it possible. He thought that, after so many years, they had changed, but he was wrong. A stone cannot grow a heart, and _dwarrow_ cannot love their light kin. For all that my father accuses me of being a dreamer, he dreams things no _il'Shennara_ should. And Puck has paid the price for it."

He turned away abruptly, hiding the sudden tears on his lashes.

"Myrnin," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "Are you sure he's dead?"

"He must be, Ivy. We were surrounded and I . . . told him to run, but he's never listened to me, not when he thought he was protecting me. Instead, he shoved me out of the way and cut down the closest night elf . . . but there were too many . . . I don't see how he could have survived . . . he didn't have magic like I do . . . but I wish . . ." He muttered something in the soft tongue of the forest folk that Ivy suspected was a swear word, then he said, "What will be, will be. I'm lucky to be alive, and he'd be the first one to smack me upside the head and tell me that."

"He's right. You should finish your broth and rest," she reminded him.

"Are you always this bossy?"

"Sometimes, according to my brothers, I'm worse."

He laughed, then he flinched and held his side. "Oww!"

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Ivy asked, alarmed.

"Only when I forget and laugh," Myrnin admitted. "Otherwise, it only throbs when I move a certain way."

"I'm sorry. You need to sleep," she began to get up.

He caught her hand. "Stay, please. I'll fall asleep better if you're with me."

She sat down again. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark, warrior?"

"No. I just like being with you."

"All right." She removed the tray from his knees and made it hover in the air beside her. "Now close your eyes. And no peeking!"

He did so . . . then slit one eye and winked at her. "Yes, Mother."

She put her hands on her hips. "Very funny, Myrnin." Then she sat down on the chair next to his bed. Her hand reached out and clasped his. And for the first time ever, Ivy found that she didn't feel awkward around a boy that wasn't her brother. Instead she felt . . . just right.

Myrnin closed his eyes, one hand curled around hers. He felt achy and tired, but holding Ivy's hand made him feel wonderful . . . as if he had come home at last. Then he sank into sleep.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In the days that followed, Myrnin seemed to be recovering . . . from his sword wound, at least. Belle made sure he was resting most of the time, and the other children visited him, curious about their new house guest. Rafe was the second of the Gold children to come upstairs and talk to their visitor, and thank him for saving him the day the buck gored him.

"You know, for a moment there, I thought I was going crazy . . . but you really _were_ there," he said, sitting by the injured half-blood.

"I was. I'm sorry I couldn't help you more, but I couldn't risk one of my people seeing and telling my father what I'd done."

"Would you have gotten in trouble?" asked Rafe, gently stroking Rowan's ears, as she sat next to him.

"He'd have had a fit and probably locked me in my room or something," Myrnin answered. "And then there would have gone my plans to court your sister. So I had to be careful." He held out a hand and Rowan came over and put her head in it. "You've got a good hound here. She nearly bit me until I told her I was a friend when I found you."

"Can you speak to animals like my sister Jasmine?"

"Sort of. All _il'Shennara_ get along well with animals, so it wasn't hard for me to convince her I was there to help."

"Lucky for me," Rafe said. Then he asked if he might take a look at Myrnin's bow.

"Go ahead. It's a little different from yours. We make them of cured aspen wood and use the shed hair of unicorns for the string, so they're strong yet flexible."

Rafe picked up Myrnin's bow, which was made with a silvery wood, slightly smaller than his own yew one. "This is excellent craftsmanship."

"Puck made that for me as a birthday present when I was ten. I've had it ever since. But I do make my own arrows."

Their talk soon turned to hunting, and the toughest quarry they'd ever hunted, and Rafe asked Myrnin if magic kept his people hidden from ordinary folk.

"Yes, we have glamourie, enough so that you humans look and don't see us. It's kind of like invisibility, but not really. More like that we blend in so well with the trees that you just . . . overlook us. And we can walk as silent as ghosts, so that helps."

"I'll say! No wonder none of us could see who was leaving those gifts on the windowsill," the archer said.

"Glamourie's easy for us. Even a little child of my people can do it."

"One day, when you're healed, we'll have to go out and hunt up a buck, Myrnin."

"I'd like that, Rafe," Myrnin said, then he sighed. "But that won't be for a long while yet. That bloody night elf kicked my ass."

"But my mom will make you better. She's the best Healer in this kingdom," Rafe said proudly.

Myrnin nodded, and vowed to practice some patience, which wasn't really his strong suit.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

But though his body mended, the young half-elf still bore wounds upon his spirit, wounds that were not healing quite well as the one the night elf had left in his flesh. Myrnin was plagued with feelings of failure, even though Ivy, Belle, and Rum had assured him that his mission's failure was not due to him, but to the treachery of his dark kin. In his head, Myrnin knew they were right, but in his heart . . . he blamed himself for Puck's death.

Puck's loss weighed heavily upon him, for the warrior had been his best friend, confidante, and the one person who had loved him for himself, and not merely for being the son of the king. He could not forgive himself for putting the warrior in harm's way, though the choice to protect him had always been Puck's own.

It ate at him, try though he did not to think of it. But his avoidance of the fact caused him to toss and turn at night, making him lose sleep. Belle soon realized that he wasn't sleeping well, and gave him a sedative, but even that could not keep the nightmares at bay.

For two nights straight he'd woken trembling and shivering, hearing Puck's voice call out to him—_"Myrnin! Run! Quickly!"_—and recall how he had yelled to his companion to beware before the night elf had sliced open his side with the black sword and he'd instinctively used his magic to escape the trap that had sprung around him.

An escape spell. But only he had escaped.

_You left him there. Left him to face the dwarrow . . . while you ran like a coward!_ His conscience accused him.

He recalled the times the young noble children had sneered at him for being half-elven . . . the times his father had scolded him for his impulsive nature, when he spoke with him at all . . . and how Puck had always been there for him . . . to give him a hug as a child . . . to offer advice, most of which he refused to consider . . . Puck had been there always . . . until now . . . and his loss left a gaping hole in his heart that nothing seemed able to heal . . .

Unable to face his despair and guilt any longer, Myrnin buried half his head in the pillow, half-curled on his side, and let hot tears fall onto the bed, his slender form shaking like a leaf as he tried to fight the sorrow that consumed him.

A part of him wondered why he bothered. It wasn't like anyone would hear him this late at night, sobbing alone in the dark.

But he was wrong.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

That night, Rumplestiltskin couldn't sleep, his leg was bothering him and sometimes when it ached this badly, the only cure for it was to get up and walk about until the pain subsided. Lying down only made it hurt worse, and he didn't want to disturb his sleeping wife, because she often woke with headaches of a morning now as well as nausea, and he knew she needed her sleep.

So he rose quietly and walked about his darkened room for a few minutes, lighting his way with a simple light spell on the end of his finger. But even that exercise failed to relax the stiffened muscles. So he decided to go out and walk up and down the hall.

He slipped from his room like a wraith, starting to go up the hallway. As he limped up the hallway, he quietly checked upon all his sleeping youngsters, rearranging the blankets over Jack that he'd kicked off, putting back a pillow Nora had knocked to the floor, tucking Phillip's leg back under the covers, and moving Clary back onto the bed before she fell off and landed on the floor. He also put an extra blanket over Ivy, who seemed cold, shivering in her sleep.

The rest of his children slept deeply, and he prepared to return to his room, having worked out much of the stiffness, when he heard the soft sniffling of someone crying. It was a sound he was familiar with, having comforted all of his children at one time or another over night terrors, or scraped knees, or a cruel word from one of the village children.

He paused just outside his door . . . realizing soon enough that the sound was coming from the guest room.

He wondered if he should go to the boy, debating whether he would be welcome, then decided that welcome or not, he couldn't let the young stranger suffer without trying to comfort him. Something which the boy probably had very little of, given how he spoke of his father, a man who it seemed was cold and disapproving and certainly not one his son would go to with a problem.

Rum limped across the hall to the guest room, entering it a moment later to see Myrnin curled up on the bed, weeping fitfully, as though his best friend had died. Which was probably the case, Rum reminded himself.

He came and sat quietly on the bed, not speaking then, but patting the hunched form on the back.

It took a few moments for the boy to realize that someone had heard him sobbing there in the glow of the dimmed lantern beside the bed.

He froze, embarrassment making him go rigid. He had never let anyone catch him crying . . . except once or twice Puck, when he was too little to hide it. Finally, he made himself speak. "I'm all right. Just . . . just go away."

But whoever it was just kept sitting there, and rubbing a hand over his back.

The touch was soothing, and made him start sniffling again, for no one had ever touched him to comfort him before . . . except maybe the mother he barely recalled. And Puck, whom he'd never see again.

"Go away," he half-growled.

"You know, a wise woman once told me that grief shared is grief lessened," Rumple said evenly. "And that tears shed alone in the dark bring bitterness and despair, but those shed on a friend's shoulder bring relief and healing."

"I'm not crying," Myrnin blurted, before realizing how stupid that sounded. But his father had drummed that lesson into him when he was seven and he'd caught his son crying over being teased by some cruel boys. "A king's son doesn't cry," his father had lectured, scolding him for over fifteen minutes for being oversensitive like a girl. He had never forgotten it.

"No, I suppose I heard a ghost in here," Rumple said calmly. "I suppose you were told, much like I was once upon a time, that boys aren't allowed to cry."

"My father . . . he said . . ." Myrnin began, than halted, horrified at what he'd almost said.

"Your father sounds like ten kinds of an idiot. Just like mine."

"Yours?" Myrnin repeated. "But you're the Gold sorcerer."

"I wasn't always a sorcerer, lad. Once I was a boy like you, the son of a poor spinner and a drunken tinker. My mother was like your father, impossible for me to please, try though I did. And my father . . . was nasty as a troll and twice as quick to give me the back of his hand when he caught me crying, so then he gave me a reason to cry about. And so I learned to hide my tears . . . but that didn't make the reason for them go away. All it made me do was get sick from pretending I wasn't unhappy. My father was a stupid man. And there are a lot of men like him . . . even ones in high places."

Myrnin sniffed sharply. "He sounds like it . . . mine called me a girl . . . or a pathetic milksop . . . and he'd look above me . . . like he couldn't believe he was related to such a weakling . . ."

"You're anything but that, lad. You wouldn't be here else. A weakling wouldn't have survived what you did . . . or me either. Pretending you don't have emotions doesn't make you strong, boy. It makes you vulnerable. Because no matter how you hide, someday those emotions are going to ambush you, and when they do, you'll be helpless to control them. They'll knock you flat on your ass and tear you apart and then you'll be a real weakling."

"But . . . my magic tutors all insist that emotions are a sorcerer's greatest weakness . . ."

Rumple chuckled. "No, trust me they aren't. You have to control your emotions in order to control your magic, but that's not the same as pretending they don't exist. And to mourn a friend is never weak, Myrnin. Mourning shows strength . . . the strength to admit how someone touched your life . . . loved you . . . and gives you the hope to go on, despite their loss. Ask yourself this. Would your Puck laugh at you for missing him?"

"No . . . the only time he ever laughed at me was when I behaved like an idiot."

"Then don't worry about what anyone else thinks. _I'm_ certainly not going to judge you, lad."

The boy turned over then, meeting the sorcerer's dark eyes with his own ever-changing green and brown ones. "You . . . remind me a little of him . . . he always had my back . . . even when doing that put him in opposition to my father . . .it hurts to think that I'll never . . . see him again." Tears welled up again in his eyes, only this time he let them fall, flickering like rain drops down his cheeks. "He never minded looking after me . . . even though anyone else would have hated it . . . watching after the misfit troublemaker, always out of favor with his father. I did everything wrong . . . but Puck never cared . . . not the way everyone else did."

Rum nodded, understanding what the boy did not say—that he'd lost the one person who'd cared for him alone, and he put an arm around the slender shoulders and hugged the youngster to him.

This time Myrnin did not draw away, but allowed the sorcerer to hold him, because he was tired of fighting this terrible feeling, and he needed someone who understood, the way Rumplestiltskin seemed to, how to find his way through the tangled thorn thickets of sorrow and be strong despite the grief that was tearing him in two.

Rum let the boy cry on his shoulder, until the tears gave way to exhaustion, and then he stroked the raven hair and said, "Now don't you feel better, instead of bottling all of that grief up till it makes your stomach sour?"

He received a nod in response.

"Thought so. And here's another bit of advice for you, lad. Sometimes everyone thinks you're wrong . . . but you're actually right and they refuse to see it. And sometimes it seems that everyone tries to run your life, but it's then you have to stand up and make your own choice . . . and run your own life the way you see fit. Sometimes the best destiny isn't one you're given, but one you make yourself. Because only you can make your own happy ending."

In spite of his aching heart, Myrnin smiled. That advice sounded similar to what Puck might have said. Live your own life, and to seven hells with what everyone else wants. Perhaps it was time he tried doing that. In that way he'd honor Puck's memory best.

He pulled away and said softly, "I've never met anyone as wise as you, Rumplestiltskin."

"Well, you haven't lived all that long yet, lad. Most of that wisdom comes from living, not hiding away in an ivory tower contemplating the stars. Or recalling mistakes I've made. And that's why I think people like your father are fools. Because they expect perfection where none exists. Perfect's an ideal, not a reality. Nothing is ever so, not with magic and not with life. Anyone who says differently is selling something. I don't do perfect and don't expect it of my children."

"I wish my father believed that."

"Perhaps you can teach him that someday. Now why don't you lie down and try to rest?"

Yawning, Myrnin obeyed, because he was tired and it was good advice. Within moments he had fallen asleep.

Rum tucked the covers about him and slipped from the room, glancing back once and muttering, "You're a perfect fool, elven king, to value least what you should love the most. That boy in there is one of the greatest magicians of the age, and you're lucky he hasn't succumbed to darkness the way you've treated him. Someday, you'll regret your stupidity, but it'll be too late, because he'll have chosen his own path, and he'll never look back. Like me."


	35. The Dagger

**35**

**The Dagger**

After his unexpected catharsis during the night, Myrnin's spirits improved, as did his respect for Rumplestiltskin and Belle also. Together, the two nursed the half-elf back to health, though at times the road was long and bumpy. But as Myrnin rested and regained his strength, he couldn't fail to see the deep and abiding love between the couple, something that he'd heard of but never witnessed before. They showed their love in obvious ways, like the clasp of a hand, or a smile, or a hug for no reason at all. And also in not so obvious ones, like a look, or the way Rumple seemed able to anticipate what Belle wanted without her saying a word, or she knew what he was going to say before he said it and finished his sentence. Sometimes he called her "my dearest Belle" or "sweetheart" and she in turn called him "my darling sorcerer" and "beloved". It was strange, but those sweet little nicknames would have made him laugh once, they sounded ridiculous, except when one of them called the other that, they just sounded endearing, and they made him smile. True love was indeed magical.

He watched the couple and dreamed of the day he could take Ivy in his arms and call her his sweetheart, his beloved, his brilliant enchantress. And he prayed that Ivy loved him like he had begun to love her. He knew that if his father knew he was courting a human, even though she was a sorceress, he would probably be locked in a dark room in the Aspen Manse until he saw sense. Such a union was forbidden, by all the laws of the _il' Shennara_ there were, and his father would claim that he wasn't old enough to understand his own heart, let alone know what true love was.

Only his father was wrong. Myrnin knew his own heart, and had known for weeks that he was slowly falling in love with the sorcerer's daughter. It was something that he didn't really need to think about, didn't need to analyze, it was something he just felt, deep inside. He had felt it ever since that impromptu dance on the village green. He felt it now. And it made his restless spirit still and pushed away the sorrow he still felt over losing Puck.

Not that Ivy was a replacement for his lost friend. She wasn't. But falling in love with her gave him something else to focus on and to dream about. And it made him happy, and nothing had done that in a long time. He found himself looking for her in the morning, after Belle had tended to his wound, Ivy usually brought him breakfast, and sometimes stayed with him as he ate, telling him amusing anecdotes about her siblings. He learned to identify her footsteps in the hall, and the swish of her skirts as she walked into the room. Her eyes seemed to dance when she saw him, and her smile quite took away his breath.

One morning, about a week after he had been brought to the Dark Castle, Ivy was speaking to him about some of the things her siblings had gotten up to since Rumple had married Belle and merged the two families.

"So, let me get this straight. First, you and your sisters are kidnapped by your mother and her pirate lover, and rescued by a selkie and your father, your brothers fill this castle with frogs and salamanders, requiring your tiny brother Tom to hunt them down with Puss, Jack makes a deal to ride a crazy stallion with your neighbor's son and wins the horse and takes it home, then some scummy ringmaster tries to steal your sister Kristen's bear, Rafe gets gored by a stag while hunting with Elaina, and then your little sister Jasmine steals a tiger from a greedy caravan owner that turns out to be her pet from before she was adopted. Oh, and your brother Phillip tries to ride a horse and breaks his arm. Am I missing anything here?"

"No, I think you remembered all of it. Oh, and Aurora was cured of sleeping sickness by Archie with hypnosis and won the annual spinning contest for the first time ever."

"And isn't that also where your father turned that girl Arachne into a spider for being a spoiled brat?"

"Oh, yes! And she certainly deserved it."

"There's never a dull moment in your house, is there?" Myrnin said, laughing. "And my father thought _I_ was bad! You make me look pure as the first snow of winter, Ivy!"

"Not really, kid," Bae said, appearing in the room just as Ivy had taken Myrnin's hand in hers and was gazing into his eyes. "You might want to remember that you've not gotten my father's permission to court my sister. Or mine either."

"Bae!" Ivy cried, glaring at her brother. "What's the matter with you?"

"Me? I could ask the same of him," her brother said, glaring at Myrnin. "Let's get one thing clear, Stormshadow. You hurt her, and I'll punch your lights out, I don't care who you're related to."

"Baelfire!" Ivy snapped. "How dare you threaten him?"

"Quit screaming at me, Ivy. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"What way?" Ivy demanded.

"Like he—"

"—loves her?" Myrnin finished. "I do. But I understand where you're coming from. I'd be the same with my sister if some boy wanted to court her."

"Well, _I_ don't!" Ivy huffed. "Bae, I'm old enough to choose whether or not I want a boy to court me and . . . and _you're_ not my father! I never threatened to punch Rennie's lights out when I found out you two were dating."

"Ivy, that's different . . ." Bae began.

She rolled her eyes. "Boys! Well, you listen to me, Baelfire Gold! If you so much as harm a hair from Myrnin's head, I'll punch you so hard you'll be seeing stars for a week! Got me?" She stood up and clenched a fist, walking up to her brother and glaring at him fit to kill.

"What is going on here?" asked Rumple, coming in to see what all the commotion was about.

"_He's_ being impossible, Papa!" Ivy snapped. "And I'm leaving before I give him a knuckle sandwich." She pointed at Bae before stalking out of the room.

Rumple looked at Myrnin and Bae and asked, "Did you two have a fight?"

"No. All I said was if he hurt her, I was going to punch his lights out. I've said that to every boy who's looked at her sideways since she was old enough to put her hair up," Bae said, confused. "And she blew up at me, Papa. I don't get it."

Rumple opened his mouth to explain, but before he could do so, a little voice said, "I know why Ivy's mad at you, Bae."

The three men looked over to see Clary standing there in the doorway, her hair straggling loose from her pony tail, her midnight blue eyes serious.

Bae quirked a smile at his small sister and knelt down so she could speak to him easier. "Really, snippet? Tell me why then."

Clary heaved a sigh, then shook her head. "Don't you know _anything_? Ivy's mad 'cause she _loves_ Myrnin and she doesn't want you two fighting."

Bae blinked. "How do you know that?"

The little girl rolled her eyes. "'Cause I use my eyes, like Papa's always telling me to."

Bae groaned and Myrnin and Rumple started snickering. "I don't believe this! A four-year-old's giving me advice on my sister's love life."

Clary cocked her head. "Well, _you _asked, Bae."

That caused Myrnin and Rumple to start laughing even harder.

"What's so funny?" Belle asked, coming up the stairs to check on her patient.

"_You_ tell her, Papa," a disgruntled Bae said. "I think I need to talk to Ivy."

"Just be careful she's not holding her rolling pin when you do that, Bae," cautioned his father. "Otherwise Belle might have two patients to tend to."

"Rum? What's that supposed to mean?" Belle queried.

"Have a seat, dearie, and I'll tell you," her husband said, handing her into one of the chairs next to Myrnin's bed. "Unless you'd rather, Clary?"

Clary climbed up on Belle's lap. "Mama, boys are nuts."

Now it was Belle's turn to chuckle. "Oh, dear! Have you found that out already?"

Clary nodded. "And Ivy loves Myrnin and won't let Bae punch his lights out."

"I see. That's a bit of a quandary, isn't it?" Belle asked, then she burst out laughing.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

"I told you, I don't want to discuss it!" Ivy growled, grabbing a pot lid and slamming it down on the kettle of soup on the stove. She kept her back turned to her brother.

"Well, I do, and we're going to," Bae said stubbornly.

"You're not the boss of me, Baelfire!"

"Ivy, you're being unreasonable!" Bae began, pulling her around to look at him.

"_I'm_ being unreasonable?" she scowled. "_I'm_ not the one threatening to punch a guy who happens to be a guest in my home's lights out, Baelfire Gold!"

"Hey, I'm your brother! You barely know this guy," Bae objected. "_He_ understood why. How come you can't?"

Ivy threw up her hands. "How come _you_ can't trust _me _to know my own mind?"

"I do. I just don't want you to get your heart broken."

"I won't. Myrnin loves me, Bae. Like Rennie does you."

He sighed. "That's what Clary said."

"You ought to listen to her. She's smart as a whip."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that. How is it that a four-year-old knows more than I do?"

"Because she sees what's there, and you're being stupid," Ivy said bluntly.

"Wanting to protect you isn't stupid," Bae argued.

"It is when that someone's Myrnin. Bae, he's the _last_ person I need protecting from. Don't you see? He's the one I've been waiting for—the only one who isn't afraid of loving the sorcerer's clever daughter. Even his father's disapproval won't stop him. He just loves . . . me."

"Do you love him then?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Can you repeat that?"

"Shut up! Before I beat you over the head with my rolling pin."

"Just asking."

Ivy sighed. "I'm as sure as you are with Rennie. Trust me."

"Well, it's not every day your little sister falls in love with a half-elf."

"And that matters how?" Ivy arched an eyebrow at him.

"Never mind," Bae said quickly, ending the conversation before he put his foot in his mouth again and got Ivy mad enough to smack him upside the head with the rolling pin.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Despite Bae's overprotectiveness, Myrnin's and Ivy's affection for each other increased daily. He told her whimsical stories of his people, and listened to her read her favorite stories to him, so he wasn't driven crazy being trapped in bed for most of the day.

One day when she finished the tale of a mystical knight who was rescued by a warrior lady from a dungeon, he said, "Well, you've rescued me from boredom quite neatly, Ivy _a'liri._ And for that I thank you so much!"

She laughed and set the book down so she could hug him. "Oh, Myrnin! What's that word mean that you called me? _A'liri_?"

He grinned at her. "It means . . . umm . . . it's a little difficult to translate, but . . . the best meaning I can give it is to say it's like calling you . . . my one and only love. The one who makes my heart complete."

"Oh! That's beautiful!" She blushed. "I've never . . . Elaina's always been the beautiful one, you know. Me, I'm practical, I'm clever, I'm an excellent cook, but . . . I was never beautiful."

He cupped her face in his hand. "Ivy Gold, you are more beautiful to me than any girl of the _il'Shennara._"

"But . . . how can that be? Eleves are gorgeous . . . perfect, with a beauty that never fades," she protested. "Even with my magic, someday I'll grow old and die, like all humans."

"And _that's_ precisely why I love you. Because you'll change, you won't always be eternally perfect . . . and neither will I. We can grow old together, Ivy, which wouldn't be the case with a wood elf girl. And you're far smarter and more interesting than any of my people, who expect me to be something I'm not. I could never fall in love with a girl who preens constantly and worries about what she's wearing or how she looks. Or how I do. Stupid and I have never gotten along. I need someone who can debate with me and tell me when I'm being an idiot if I need it, not some mouse who squeals and looks at her feet when I say anything."

"And Bae wonders why I love you," Ivy said dreamily.

"He's only trying to protect you. Like an elder brother should."

"He's a pain in my ass!" Ivy grumbled. "Like all my brothers."

"Spoken like a true little sister!" Myrnin chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me. Haven't you ever felt like that about _your_ brother?"

"Well . . . yes, at times I did. Arion's three years older than me too. And sometimes he can be . . . so . . . proper and . . . and stuffy that I want to kick him hard, just to see what he'd do."

"Did you ever?" asked Ivy mischievously.

"Once," Myrnin admitted. "He chased me all over the house . . . and when he caught me he threatened to throw me off one of the walkways . . . but he didn't. Instead he asked how I dared to do something like that to him . . . and I just said . . . I'm your brother, that's how."

"What did he do then?"

"He started laughing. Then he cuffed me on the ear and told me to mind my manners and he left for his council meeting," Myrnin answered. "That was one of the few times we actually . . . played together, Father kept him so busy he never had time to do anything with me."

"How old were you?"

"Nine or ten, I think." He examined the book she had been reading. "You know . . . since I'm stuck in bed most of the time, I think it'd do me good to learn how to read common. And write it too. Would you teach me?"

Ivy's jaw dropped. "Me? Teach you?"

"Why not? You're fluent in it and I've got nothing else to do besides lie here."

"But . . . I've never taught anyone anything before. Except how to cook."

"Who taught you how to read and write?"

"Papa did . . . before I ever went to school," Ivy recalled. "He taught all of us."

"Well then . . . I'd say you had a good example."

"Umm . . . if you really want me to."

"I do. Please, _a'liri_?" Myrnin asked, flashing her his most winning smile.

Ivy groaned. "You know, you could get a girl to do most anything with that smile."

"Can I? Then teach me how to read and write."

"All right. I just hope I can do this."

"I have faith in you."

"Okay, let me get the alphabet cards in Papa's study. That's how he started with me." Ivy said, and rose from the chair.

Suddenly she heard something shatter. "Oh hells!" she cried. "What was that?"

"Sounds like something broke."

"Obviously. And that's never good. I'd better go see."

She emerged in the hallway and started to go down the hall towards the study, when she saw Phillip and his new friend, Geppetto's son, Pinocchio, standing before the door, looking dismayed and horrified. "Okay. What happened, boys?"

"I didn't mean it!" Pinnocchio cried. "I was throwing the ball . . . and Phillip missed it."

"It wasn't my fault!" Phillip groaned. "You threw it too high. I told you we shouldn't of been playing near here, Pinocchio! Now Papa's going to kill us!"

Pinocchio started to sniffle. "But it was an accident! I don't want Master Gold to change me into anything unnatural!"

"What did you break?" Ivy demanded, pushing into the study to see what had gotten broken. She froze when saw just what had shattered. "Oh, gods and hells! You broke Papa's glass cabinet with his dagger in it!"

There was glass all over the floor behind Rumple's desk, and the ball that had caused it all lying in the middle of it. One of the doors hung crookedly, and the dagger that had once been the instrument of Rumplestiltskin's curse lay on the floor among the shards, a black obsidian slash against the gold carpet.

"Ivy . . . can't you fix it? Before he sees?" begged Phillip.

"I . . . don't know how," Ivy admitted.

"But you have magic," Pinocchio said. "Can't you just . . .?" he waved a hand.

"I'm sorry. My magic's not like that."

"But Ivy, you _have_ to!" Phillip wailed. "I don't wanna die!"

"Me neither!" sniffled Pinocchio. "Or become a slug or a frog!"

"Phillip, it's not the first time one of us has broken something," Ivy began. "Just tell him it was an accident . . ."

"No-o-o! He's gonna kill us because Mom told us to be careful and not play ball in the castle and I forgot!" her little brother sobbed.

Ivy just stood there, trying to figure out a way out of this mess when they heard familiar footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Uh oh!" Ivy hissed, hearing the quiet tapping of Rumple's cane. She turned to say something to the boys, who were whimpering like criminals condemned to the gallows.

The sorcerer came into view, saw the three standing there, and raising an eyebrow, asked, "What happened here?"

You'd have thought he'd accused the two little boys of thievery or murder from the way they acted. Pinocchio started shaking like a leaf and sniffling, huge tears falling from his sky blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Master Gold!" he bawled.

"We didn't mean it! Please don't kill us!" Phillip wailed, bursting into tears.

"Papa, it was an accident . . ." Ivy began, trying to mitigate his wrath as best she could.

Rumplestiltskin stared and thought, _what in gods' name? They're acting like I'm . . . some kind of monster. _"Hold it! What are you going hysterical about, dearies?"

"We broke it!" Pinocchio hiccupped.

"By mistake!" Phillip added, trying to talk through his sobs.

"Broke what? Ivy, would you please explain why these two are acting like I'm about to wallop them into next week?"

Both boys began to cry harder at that statement.

"Papa . . . uh . . . you see . . . maybe you'd better come look for yourself," Ivy said softly.

Rumple limped over to the door and saw the broken cabinet, the dagger, and the glass everywhere and sighed. "All right. It's not the end of the world. Now please stop howling, or else your mother will think I took my cane to you for gods' sake."

Pinocchio gulped hard and whimpered, "Then . . . you're not gonna turn me into a bug, sir?"

"Turn you into a bug?" Rumple repeated, astonished. "Who do you think I am, Regina?"

"Or spank me?" Phillip sobbed.

"Did you deliberately break my cabinet?" his father asked sharply.

Phillip shook his head frantically. "N-no, Papa! Honest, we didn't!"

"Then it was an accident. And you don't get spanked over accidents, Phillip," his father answered. "Did either of you touch the dagger? Or get hurt from the glass?"

Both boys shook their heads.

"Good. Now stop crying and stay here. Before you get cut and then you'll really have something to cry about." Rumple walked carefully into the study, sighed, and gestured with both hands.

Purple magic flared from his hands and gathered all the shattered glass up in ten thousand winking shards. Then it reassembled them and mended the cabinet in a flash.

Once that was done, Rumple went over to where the dagger had fallen and picked it up, but instead of returning it to its place inside the cabinet, he tucked it into his tunic pocket. Then he picked up the ball that had started the whole fiasco and brought it back to Phillip and Pinocchio. "Here, boys. Next time don't play ball in the castle."

Pinocchio took the ball gingerly. "Then . . . you're not mad, Master Gold?"

"Lad, accidents happen, especially when you've got eighteen children living here. If I got angry every time something like this happened, I'd go insane. Just remember not to do it again, okay?"

Phillip nodded. "We're sorry, Papa."

Rumple handed him a handkerchief. "Dry your eyes, lad. And go play downstairs or outside."

The two turned and walked down the stairs . . . then they ran across the foyer, into the kitchen, and out the back door.

Rumple turned to Ivy. "Did you want to ask me something, dearie?"

"Umm . . . actually I wanted to borrow your alphabet cards, Papa. I'm going to teach Myrnin how to read and write our language."

"Oh? That's an ambitious project. Then you'll need a slate and chalk too, dearie." He beckoned with a hand and soon a small slate with a piece of chalk attached to it and a white box with some handwritten alphabet cards came at his call. "Here you go. You have fun with Myrnin, and I'll tell your mom and Jasmine to cook dinner tonight."

"Really? Oh, you're the best!" Ivy squealed and hugged him. "And thanks for not killing those two scamps."

Rum hugged her back, then said, "You forget, dearie, how many things Bae and you broke at that age and I didn't kill you. Or Finn either."

Ivy flushed. "Umm . . . yeah. Even when you were the Dark One, you never beat us."

"Now what good would that have done? It certainly wouldn't have fixed whatever you'd broken," her father said. "I'll see you later, dearie." He turned and continued on down the hall, entering his bedroom, to emerge a moment later with a blue shawl over his arm. "Your mom's sitting on the porch and it's a little chilly," he said, then he limped past her and down the stairs.

Ivy smiled and entered Myrnin's room, carrying the slate and cards.

Myrnin looked up and asked, "Is everything all right? Did someone die?"

"No, silly!" Ivy laughed. "Though Phil and Pinocchio were sure they were going to."

"Why?"

"Because they broke Papa's glass cabinet playing ball in the castle," Ivy answered. "But don't worry, they're fine. He didn't even yell at them."

"My father would have bellowed the roof down," Myrnin said.

"Papa rarely shouts at any of us," Ivy said. "Now, take a look at these. Common is composed of twenty-six letters . . ." She opened the box of cards.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Dinner that night was crispy chicken, asparagus, scalloped potatoes, and for a sweet there was chocolate trifle with raspberry sauce. That night, Myrnin managed to come downstairs for dinner with the family for the first time since his arrival there, Belle having said it would be all right for him to navigate the stairs, if he did so slowly and carefully.

He found himself seated beside Ivy, and soon engaged in a lively conversation with Jack and Peter about wildlife and then Finn and Ariel about music.

"Do you play, Myrnin?" asked Finn curiously.

"Not as well as you, but yes, I can play a guitar," Myrnin said. "And sing some too. That's part of a noble's education—music, dance, history, politics, composition, and mathematics. And arms practice and magic too."

Rafe stared at him. "When did you sleep, with all those lessons?"

Myrnin shrugged. "When my eyes shut, which was almost every day in history, my tutor was so boring! I used to cast an illusion of myself sitting there and listening and then fall asleep with it in front of me. Master Lenlithliss never noticed the difference! He could talk all afternoon to no one."

The children giggled at that statement.

"I wish I could do that in school," Jack said longingly. "Mistress Estrella puts me to sleep the moment she calls my name. But old Blue won't let us use magic in school."

"Old Blue?" Myrnin asked.

"He means the Blue Fairy," clarified Ivy. "She's our principal, and the other fairies are our teachers."

"You have fairies for teachers?" Myrnin goggled.

"We always have," Bae said. "They're the ones who built the village school, and in return for them teaching us, the parents give them food and other things that they can't make with their magic. They think every child should get an education, even if they're a woodcutter's brat."

"I happen to agree with that," Belle said.

"As do I," Rumple agreed. "It's why I donate gold for books every year and send you all to school. There's no excuse for ignorance."

Myrnin looked thoughtful. "My father prides himself on being educated, which is why he insists his sons be also, but even he wouldn't go that far—to make tutors available to every _il'Shennara_ in the wood. In some ways, your people are far more advanced than mine."

"Oh, not everyone sends their children to school," Belle remarked. "Some don't—they think it a waste of time to send a child who's going to be a farmer or a blacksmith to learn how to read and write. But I hope one day that school will be a requirement for everyone, that way all children can learn to better themselves. There's no law that says you have to be noble born to be educated. Not here anyway."

"Is it like that in other places?" Myrnin queried.

"It depends on the kingdom," Belle replied. "In some, education is valued highly, in others, only the upper class is given such a thing. It varies."

"That's one of the reasons I'm glad my castle is here," Rumple said. "Because at least the fairies offer my children a decent education."

"But . . . Ivy said you taught her to read," Myrnin said.

"Oh, I did. But I'm mostly self-taught, dearie. There were no schools where I grew up, and only rich nobles and squire's children had tutors. I was only the son of commoners, we could barely afford to put food on the table, never mind hire someone to teach me to read and write. I learned that later, after Milah left me and I was trying to raise Bae and Ivy myself."

"Where did you find the time, Rum?" asked Belle curiously.

"When they slept, mostly. And . . . oddly enough, the Dark One's curse enabled me to stay awake longer than an ordinary person, and also gifted me with the knowledge I needed to teach myself to read, write, and do mathematics. That was the one good thing that came out of my poor decision."

"How did you ever break the curse?" asked Rennie.

"I didn't, dearie. Not by myself. Perhaps it's time I told you all that story. My children all know about it, but I haven't told you Avonleas yet."

"You don't have to, Rum . . ." began Belle, worried that it might upset him to speak of it.

"No, it's an important lesson for them to learn, sweetheart. And better they hear it from me than some idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about. Come, let's go into the sitting room. Tonight, instead of playing games, I'll tell you all a story—the story of the dagger and its curse that trapped me and how I was freed by the most powerful magic of all."

"What's that, Papa?" asked Phillip.

"You'll find out."

"What about the dishes?" Belle queried.

"They'll keep for tonight," her husband said. Then, when he saw her scandalized glance, he chuckled. "Just kidding." He snapped his fingers three times and all the plates floated themselves into the kitchen and the sink turned on and filled with hot soapy water, and the dishes began to wash themselves.

The children clapped and cheered.

"Now why can't we do that every night?" asked Nora.

"Because you'd grow lazy, dearie," Rumple laughed. "A little work never killed anyone." Then they all followed him into the sitting room.

"I have to learn that spell," Myrnin said.

"You could always ask Bae," Finn snickered.

"Shut up, maestro!" Bae ordered, swatting him on the back of the head.

"Huh?" Myrnin looked puzzled. "But he has no magic."

"Tell you later. Let's listen to Papa now," Finn said, then ducked Bae's second swat.

They all gathered around Rumplestiltskin, who sat on the settle, with Belle next to him on one side and Phillip on the other. Clary climbed up on Belle's lap, while the rest of them sat or laid on the chairs or the floor as they chose.

Rum removed the dagger from his pocket, holding the odd wavy black dagger on his palms before he began his tale. "Once this dagger held a powerful curse, a curse that had doomed many mortals to a life of cold darkness and emotionless servitude. It gave the wielder immortality and magic, power, and knowledge, but as I've said before, all magic comes with a price. The price for all of this was to lose one's soul to darkness. But like all dark objects, the price wasn't always known up front, but learned later, after the wielder had doomed himself. And by then it was too late.

"Or so it was thought. Until it was broken. But I'm getting ahead of myself. You all know that I was married once before your mother and I met. To Milah, who later ran away from me and joined Hook for the life a pirate. I'm sure you all recall that day on the beach, when she called me a coward."

"She's a liar, Papa!" Bae said hotly. "You're not a coward."

Rum held up his hand. "Be that as it may, dearie, it's how she always thought of me. Especially after I refused to throw away my life fighting the duke's endless war with the ogres. Nothing I said could convince her otherwise, and we fought bitterly over it. Finally, when Hook came into port one afternoon, she chose to leave with him rather than stay with me, her poor cowardly spinner husband and her two children."

"Good riddance to her!" Ivy spat. "You raised us better than she ever would have."

"That's kind of you to say so, dearie, but things might have turned out differently if the Dark One's curse wasn't broken," her father said. "Back to my story. After Milah left, I was left alone with two small children on my own, and Ivy was only a few months old then. Bae was even younger than you, Clary. And I only had my spinning to support myself and them. Which, though I spun the best thread in my village, was never quite enough to keep the wolf from the door, unfortunately.

"And the duke was growing desperate, and recruiting every able-bodied man he could . . . and even those who weren't, like me. His soldiers came again to my village . . . and dragged off any man and boy who was big enough to fight. They came to me and said I had to come too, even though I walked with a limp and I had no one to look after my children. They didn't care about that. All they cared about was their stupid war. I refused, of course. It didn't do much good. They just laughed and their commander slammed me upside the head with his sword.

"Then he said that if I didn't come with them by the next evening, they'd kill Bae and Ivy, that way I'd have no excuse not to do my duty, like every other peasant. I didn't know what to do then. I was no sorcerer then, my magic was sleeping, and I had no way to fight them. I couldn't run off either, I had a little baby to care for, and no baby could survive living rough in the woods or on the road for long. So I had to stay. But I was frantic. I couldn't leave Bae and Ivy alone while I went off to fight in that blasted war and I had no relatives to watch them for me. There was only me."

"So what did you do, sir?" asked Myrnin.

"I made a deal with the devils. They were drunk and playing dice down at the local tavern, the Rabbit Hole, and I heard one of them bet the commander that they could get the dagger of the Dark One from a neighboring king's castle. And the commander laughed and said if he could do that, he'd give him whatever he wanted. Once I heard that, I went inside and offered to get the dagger instead. And if I did, they'd leave me be and go away, never to return, and I could raise my children in peace. They agreed, and I went to the castle. They expected me to fail. They thought I'd be killed, but I wasn't. I succeeded . . . but instead of giving them the dagger, I summoned the current Dark One with it and he told me that they were planning to betray me, they'd renege on their deal, and kill me and take the dagger from my corpse.

"So I did the only thing I could do . . . or what I thought was the only thing. I killed the current Dark One, and with his death, the dagger transferred its curse and its power to me. I didn't know then what a terrible curse it was, I thought it was the only way to save my family. I was desperate, and a desperate soul does foolish things.

"Now I had all the power of the Dark One, all the magic, and the first thing I did was I went back to those stupid greedy soldiers and fought them. Now I'd never had the magic before, and didn't know the right way to use my power. I didn't know the rule of three back then. All I knew was anger and hate and rage. Those scum had dared to try and hurt my family and I wanted to make them pay.

"Revenge is a very scary thing, dearies. It eats you from the inside out, makes you cold, and turns you into a monster. Those soldiers saw me coming, and at first they laughed at me . . . until they saw I had the dagger. Then they sprang at me, trying to kill me, thinking I was easy pickings. I would have been . . . except for my newly awakened magic.

"I used it then, killing some with lightning and transformed the others into rats and sent them running away into the dark. That was a mistake . . . because when you use magic for revenge it turns on you. You don't feel it at first, but it does.

"But all I thought of was that I was safe, and so were Bae and Ivy. I could go home and never worry again about the duke's damn soldiers. So I did that . . . and at first things were all right. I didn't use the magic again . . . but as the weeks and months passed, the desire to use it grew in me. It was like a drunkard's need for alcohol, or a gambler's need to play cards. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch.

"So I started using it again. At first it was for small things, like keeping Ivy happy when I was busy spinning. Then I began to use it when I spun . . . and suddenly I could triple the output of my thread, and spin wool into silk. I brought my new thread to the market . . . but found no one would buy it in my village because they claimed it was cursed. It wasn't, of course, but they all believed it was.

"It made me angry, and when I was angry, my magic got out of control. The dark magic lends itself easily to curses, and the next thing I knew, half of those who called me names ended up as half-men and half-creatures, and I made some of them buy my thread using compulsion spells. After all, who were they to refuse me?

"Eventually, all the villagers became afraid of me, and afraid of the magic I wielded. No one would talk to me anymore, and women made the evil eye at me whenever I walked down the street. They even spat at Ivy and Bae. I retaliated with more magic, but that didn't help anything. Finally, I decided to leave, because I couldn't stand to be around them any longer.

"I took my children and moved across the kingdom . . . to this castle we live in now. It had always been the home of the Dark One, though I didn't know that then. The dagger's magic told me later, once I had moved in. Back then, the castle wasn't the way it is now . . . it was a dark place, full of cobwebs and spiders, and dark influences. But I didn't mind it, for part of me was just as dark and corrupted."

"What about Bae and Ivy?" queried Phillip. "Were they scared?"

"Oh yes. They hated it. They used to beg me to leave and go back home to the village. But I couldn't go back there. So I tried to fix up the castle . . . make it a more pleasant place for them to live in. But all of that required money.

"It was then I discovered I could spin straw into gold. I ran out of wool one night while I was spinning and for some reason I took up some straw I found on the floor and began spinning it . . . and next thing I knew I had a spool of gold. I went out to the stable and got more straw and spun more gold.

"Now I had money enough to buy things for the castle, and hire people to clean the place up. Not many people wanted to come near here, but gold will buy almost anything. So some did, and soon I had the castle looking more like a home.

"But people feared me. They could sense how the curse had twisted and warped me, and they wanted nothing to do with me . . . or my children. So I spent many years alone . . . and I used the dark magic to gain knowledge and power over people. See, that's the trap of the dark magic. No matter how much you say I won't use it again, you always do. There's always something, some reason, that you think you have to. And the more you use it, the more it controls you."

"How did you ever stop?" Belle asked, her eyes wide.

"I didn't. By then I couldn't. Like a person addicted to poppy milk, the darkness had hold of me. It began to change me. I began to become . . . scaled, like a serpent . . . my skin started to become this strange gold color . . .and my eyes red. I didn't notice this at first. It was so gradual and we didn't have mirrors in the castle then. But Bae and Ivy saw . . . and they were scared spitless. I was becoming a monster . . . something that even my children couldn't stand to be around.

"And then I tried to set aside the magic again. For months, I refused to use it, but I was miserable. The magic had become my life. And not using it made me horribly grouchy."

"He yelled at us for everything," Bae recalled. "We couldn't do anything right. I spent half my time in a corner, and Ivy in her room. It was horrible. I knew the dagger was responsible, but I didn't know what to do about it. I didn't dare touch it, even if I knew where he'd kept it. It got so bad that I took to going down into the village on a lot of days, and taking Ivy with me. The villagers didn't like us, but they didn't chase us away either. It was there that I met Miranda . . . and she was the one who told me how to break the curse."

"How?" asked Nick.

"By loving him," Ivy answered. "True love breaks all curses. And even though we hated what he'd become—the Dark One of legend—we still loved him. He was our papa. Miranda said that we had to forgive him when he snapped at us. That it was the curse doing that to him. It wanted to drive us away, it wanted Papa to depend on no one, to be alone and only loving the dagger. The Dark One wasn't supposed to have a family. He was supposed to care only for himself and the dark magic. But Papa had us and we wanted him back the way he was before."

"So we went back to the castle. And we learned to overlook the way the magic made him look," Bae explained. "I made him talk to us at night, tell us stories, play with us, the way he used to."

"I made him show me how to cook things. And teach me to read," Ivy said. "We made sure to give him lots of hugs too. And slowly, we started to see something happening."

"What was happening was the curse was losing its hold over me," Rumplestiltskin explained. "By making me act like a human being again, like the father I'd once been, Bae and Ivy were slowly chipping away at the curse. I was remembering how to feel again . . . to love again . . . and slowly I started to look the way I used to. I started to use my magic again, but only for certain things, like spinning. No one came to the castle, so I didn't have to use it to harm anyone. The only time I ever saw anyone else was when I went down to the village at market day to make deals for my gold thread. And these villagers bought everything I spun. They were probably terrified not to.

"By then I was halfway back to myself. I found that I didn't want my children to see me as a monster. But I didn't know how to keep the curse from turning me back into a beast. Even Ivy and Bae's love wasn't enough. But one night I went walking in the woods after supper. And I found an empty wagon half off the road, and the people in it were dead and everything they'd owned was gone. They'd been robbed by brigands, you see.

"It looked like there was nothing left. But I felt something . . . some magic I'd never felt before. And I followed it, and found a trunk . . . and inside it was Finn, with his flute. He was only five and a half then. Now, I could have left him there, in fact a part of me, the cursed part, wanted me to do just that. But the magic tugged at me . . . and I couldn't do it. So I took him home with me.

"And by doing that I redeemed part of myself. The curse started to unravel further. I made Finn my third child, and I soon realized that he had magic too. A strong magic, and when he played his flute, it made me remember happier times, and that in turn destroyed the curse further.

"I began to teach him how to control his magic, and in doing so I saw at last how the dagger had corrupted me. And I knew then that I didn't want to be what the dagger had made me. I didn't want to be hated and feared. I didn't want to be the Dark One, the evil sorcerer. I wanted to be plain Rumplestiltskin again. I wanted to be the kind of man my children needed, a good father, not like the one I'd grown up with.

"I wanted it more than anything I ever had before. I put the dagger away for good. And I tried to use my magic, not for revenge and hate, but for good things, like helping a villager whose donkey was stuck in the mud, or curing someone's cough, or fixing someone's broken wagon. Little things, but those little things added up. And between my own determination to do good and the love of my three children and mine for them, the Dark One's curse broke. Not all at once, but gradually, until one day I woke up and found the dagger no longer bore my name, as it had since the day I'd used it to become the Dark One. And then I was free.

"I was Rumplestiltskin again, the spinner, but with magic, my own magic, not a curse. And the choice to use it for good or evil. Like every magic wielder. When I made a conscious choice to use my magic to help people, and no longer for power, I was free forever, and the dagger became nothing more than a knife again. And in doing so I became the Gold sorcerer, and not the Dark One ever again. But I still kept the dagger, to remind of what I had done to myself, and to never forget what the path of desperation and revenge leads to."

"Then it's no longer cursed?" asked Myrnin.

"No. It's simply an oddly shaped dagger made of obsidian," Rumple replied.

"May I see it?"

Rumple handed it to him.

Myrnin took it and as he examined it, something like revulsion stole over his face. "Did you know, sir, that this is . . . it was made by the _dwarrow_, ages ago?"

"No. I never knew that, having never seen a dagger like this ever," Rum said, astonished.

"Well, it was. I'd also wager the curse was too, since a magic that sucks the goodness from you sounds just like them. They use black obsidian for their blades, not steel or cold iron because like us they can't bear the touch of it. And they make the blade wavy so when they stick you with it . . . it tears you as it comes out, as I know all too well." Suddenly he gasped and the dagger fell to the floor.

"Myrnin, are you all right?" Ivy asked worriedly.

"Did you cut yourself?" asked Rum. "Even without the curse, that blade is very sharp."

"No . . . it burned me a little," the half-elf answered, shaking his hands. "I ought to know better than to touch _dwarrow_ made weapons with my bare hands. Whatever they do them . . . _il'Shennara_ can't handle them for very long without being burned, almost like cold iron."

Belle rose and took his hand in hers. "Let me see, Myrnin." She frowned at the red mark across his hands. "Rumple, are you sure the dagger isn't cursed still?"

"Positive. Is he hurt bad?"

"No, it's a minor burn, but . . . he barely held it a few minutes and it does this?"

"It's probably because I'm allergic to it or something," Myrnin said, wincing. "I react like that to a lot of magical objects. And like I said, Lady Belle, _dwarrow_-made weapons hate the touch of one of the Folk of the Wood, even a half-blood like me."

"Let me put some salve on this," Belle said.

"I'll get some for you," Ivy said, getting up and running into the closet to get Belle's medical satchel.

Rumple floated the dagger back to him and put it back in his pocket. "I'm sorry, lad. Had I known . . . I would never have let you touch it."

"It's not your fault. How could you know it was night elf made when you've never seen their work before?" Myrnin said, sitting still and letting Belle and Ivy smear a clear paste over his red palms and wrap them in soft strips of linen. "I'm the one who should have been more careful."

"Even so, I'm putting this somewhere no one can touch it," the sorcerer said quietly. "Even without the curse, it's too dangerous to leave lying about." He looked at all of his children. "Now, I would hope you all learned something from my tale and never do what I did, which is make the wrong choice out of desperation and then have to deal with a curse like mine. And if you think a deal is too good to be true, trust your instincts, because it probably is. But if you ever get into trouble like I did, you can always come to me and I will do my best to get you out of it. Because any curse, no matter how powerful, can be broken by true love's magic. It's good's most powerful counteragent."

All of them nodded solemnly.

Then Bae said to Myrnin, "Do your weapons do that to your dark cousins?"

"Oh yes. They can't bear the touch of our silveron-worked blades any more than we can theirs. I think it has to do with our magics—they react against each other. It's why my sword is probably lying right where I dropped it on their floor. None of them could pick it up, even through cloth it would burn them."

"So that's why your sheath was empty when I found you," Bae said.

Myrnin nodded. "That's why. It's too bad though, because my sword was made by one of our great weaponssmiths, Kevaelin Ironheart. But at least I'm not lying on the floor with it, so that's one good thing."

"The best thing," Ivy asserted, then she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"I think it's time for bed," Belle announced.

There were good-natured groans from the younger children, but eventually they all got up and went upstairs, for it was past their usual bedtime and dawn came swiftly and with it the usual chores and lessons.

As Belle climbed the stairs beside Rumple, she said, "You were very brave to tell that tale to the children tonight, love. Not many men would care to admit their mistakes to their kids that way."

Her husband smiled. "But that mistake, horrible as it was, showed me something, Belle. That love truly is the greatest power of all . . . and that's a lesson worth learning."

"And am I ever glad that you learned it," she murmured, before kissing him ardently.

"Me too, dearie," he replied, kissing her back. "Let me just lock this away and I can show you again what you've taught me. All night."

Belle swatted him playfully on the shoulder. "Rum, you're a wicked _wicked_ man!"

"Well, you married me," he snickered, then went to put the dagger away for safekeeping.

"And that was the best decision I ever made," his wife murmured, going into their bedroom to wait for the return of her "dark" sorcerer.

**A/N: Hope you all liked the backstory on the dagger. Next chapter will have more Bae, Rennie, James, and Peter. And get ready for a new surprise too!**


	36. Midnight Watch

**36**

**Midnight Watch**

As Myrnin's wound healed, he and Ivy could often be found together, sitting at Rum's desk in the study, their dark heads bent, as she showed him how to read, first the simple books they'd all started with, and then, as his facile mind grasped bigger and bigger words and vocabulary, some of Ivy's longer tales and stories. When he wasn't reading, Myrnin was practicing letters, and he jokingly claimed Ivy was as strict as one of his tutors back in Gliringlass. "What's with making me spell this word twenty-five times?" he'd complain.

"That way you learn how to write it very well. It's how the fairies taught me."

"How about if I use it in a sentence?"

"Then you can write _that_ twenty-five times," Ivy said. "Now get to work!"

He glanced sideways at her. "And if I don't? You gonna make me stand in the corner?"

"Don't push me, Myrnin," she warned.

He raised an eyebrow, his hazel eyes dancing with mischief. "Or what?"

"Or you can stay here and write all your vocabulary words this week a hundred times and miss supper, Master Impudence!" she wagged a finger under his nose.

He laughed then. "Ouch! You're too strict, Mistress Gold! I'll behave . . . later," then he kissed her, very gently, on the mouth.

"Myrnin!" she gasped.

"That's an apology for being a pain in the ass."

"Oh! Maybe . . you'd better apologize more often."

He chuckled. "I can't now. You see, I have this horribly strict teacher who'll make me eat unsweetened gruel for dinner and make me write till my hand falls off and . . ."

"Oh, quit complaining, you big baby!" she snorted, and smacked him on the back of the head with her composition book.

"I'm telling!" he teased.

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, then she pulled his head to hers and kissed him soundly. "Tell about that, why don't you?"

"Never," he smirked. "But if you keep kissing me like that, I'll never get anything done, and it'll be your fault."

"You're impossible!"

"Uh huh. That's what my father says too."

"Well, _he's_ a blind fool!"

"I'll tell him you said so."

"Just be quiet and write, won't you?'

"Of course, Mistress Gold." He bent his head and began to write again.

Ivy rolled her eyes. Sometimes he could be so aggravating. But she loved him anyway.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It was a well known fact that most ewes had their lambs in the springtime, when the grass was greener and the trees just beginning to bud. But the Gold's flock of sheep, while not magical, had their own timetable for doing things, and it didn't always match up with the way nature had intended. Most of the sheep, hardy thick-fleeced stock, bred from the mountain Irellian strain from Rumple's old village, and then crossed with some of the Shepherd's black-faced, silken-wooled, gold-tinged Argolians, tended to give birth in late summer instead of spring, which made for some long summer nights watching the flock to make sure no predator spotted the ewe in labor and killed her or the newborn lamb.

Usually, Bae and Jack had that chore, often staying with the flock until past midnight if a ewe was birthing, or had slipped off to have a lamb by herself. There weren't too many predators willing to come down from the forest to harass the flock—Rumple had chased off all the goblins and wargs again, and the wolf pack that used to roam the hills had moved on as well. But Bae had spotted signs of something big, like a mountain lion or a chimera, near the pasture where the sheep grazed, and so he was keeping an extra close watch on them.

Along with Rennie and Peter, who had voluntarily taken Jack's place, because Jack was working with Flicker in the afternoons to teach the colt to be calmer and easier to handle, like his dam and Steady, and was too tired to stand watch in the darkest hours of the night. Peter was sometimes mischievous, but he took his duty of shepherd seriously. He knew how important the sheep were to Rumple as a spinner and Belle too, who used the lanolin to make certain creams and the sheepskin to pad wounds. He didn't like mornings, but loved the evenings and dark of night best, when the sheep were prone to sneak off to lamb, and sometimes predators would gather. He could shoot a bow passingly well, but his preferred weapon was a simple sling and some round stones. He was quicker and more accurate with his sling than a bow, and Bae had his sword and Rennie her crook, which she could use almost as well as Bae did his blade.

Belle had packed them sandwiches of ham, cheese, and pickles, as well as fruit, carrot sticks, and cookies for dinner on the nights they'd be out with the flock. They carried jugs of hot black coffee with sugar swirled into it, the jugs were magically spelled to keep the coffee hot. They also had light blankets, magical lanterns, and high thick boots just in case they stepped near a hornet's nest or encountered a snake.

When they were on watch, like now, Bae divided them, putting Peter closest to the castle, on a hill, while he and Rennie took the east and west points of the pasture, closer to the forest and the Shepherd's land. All of them were close enough in case something happened, and Bae had a horn similar to Rafe's on his belt to blow if they encountered a real monster and needed Rumplestiltskin's help to drive it off.

That evening, they were visited by James, who came to warn them of some kind of large animal that had gotten three of his sheep three nights ago. "I never saw it, but Rex started barking his head off and by the time I ran across the field, it was too late. The blasted thing had killed three of my flock, and the rest were panicked and scattered. It took me, Rex, and Dusty an hour to round them all up again, and I found a track as big as my hand over near the woods. So I just wanted to warn you."

"Thanks for the heads up, Jim," said Bae. "We'll be extra careful tonight. Sorry about the three you lost."

James sighed. "It happens, especially around now, but it still makes me want to smash something. Preferably that varmint's head in." He patted his staff, which had a sling attached to the top of it, which enabled him to shoot a far distance. "Mom said not to worry, there's always some who're lost in the summer and we had a good crop of lambs to replace them. Plus, I'm going to breed Dusty to Ranger in the fall, and she should whelp around late November or so."

"Those'll be some good pups," Bae said approvingly.

"I know, and my offer of one still stands."

"I'd have to see if it's all right with Mom and Papa first, since we already have a menagerie over here," Bae told him.

"Yeah, you've got how many pets now between you?" James laughed.

"Well, there's Kris's bear, Baron, Phillip's cat, Puss, who's almost like Tom's now, Rafe has Rowan, his hunting hound, Jasmine has Rajah, her tiger, and Jack has Steady. Then there's Rogue and Flicker, the chickens, the sheep, the cow, and Fannie and Sunny, the goats," Rennie counted them off on her fingers.

"Gods, you almost have as many pets as kids," James smirked.

"Like I said, we have a menagerie," Bae repeated, grinning. "And I wouldn't feel right adding to it without asking permission first. Even if we could use a good sheepdog."

"Well, you let me know, and I'll save a pup for you," James promised. Then he glanced at the moon, which was almost full tonight, and said, "I'd best be getting on home. Mom's waiting supper on me. See you all tomorrow. Good luck!"

They bid the young shepherd good night, then went to their assigned places and settled down to watch the flock. Several of the ewes were due anytime now, and they milled about, baaing softly and then putting their heads down to graze.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Back at the castle, Rumple and Belle were getting the smaller children bathed and ready for bed. Belle had Clary and June in the green bathroom, while Rumple had Phillip in the blue bathroom, letting the little boy play for awhile before washing his hair and then rinsing off and getting into his nightclothes.

Rum was glad for this time alone with his youngest son, for lately he'd been busy with tending to Myrnin, and hadn't had much time to spend with the boy. He was happy Phillip and Pinocchio seemed to hit it off, but the boys' reaction to him breaking his cabinet a few days ago bothered him. Pinocchio's assumption that he would be angry enough to turn him into a bug was something Rum knew he could have heard from one of the other villagers or their children, for there were still some who distrusted him and recalled his time as the Dark One, and would cheerfully spread lies about him. He had told Geppetto about it, and the woodcarver had promised to talk with his son and assure him that Rum would never use his magic to harm a child, even if they had broken something.

Phillip was busy playing in the tub, surrounded by vanilla scented bubbles, and some toys provided by both Belle and Rum, including a rubber squid, a shark, a pirate ship, and a big blue whale. The whale could shoot water out of the top of its head, and the pirate ship shoot tiny rubber balls, and Phillip was having a grand time having a sea battle between the ship and the whale.

Rumple leaned on the counter and watched, recalling the way his other sons used to play like this when they were that age, and vowing to have a small talk with the child once bathtime was over.

Finally, the whale sank the ship, and Rumple said, "All right, lad, let me wash your hair, it's getting late." It was almost eight o'clock and Belle liked to have the little ones in bed by eight-thirty at the latest.

Phillip sighed, but didn't protest when Rum carefully lathered his hair and told him to close his eyes. Then the magician made it rain inside the tub, rinsing off the dark-haired child with a minimum of effort. Phillip chuckled and said, "I like when you do that, Papa."

"So does Clary," Rumple said. "She says it's like having her own private rainstorm."

"But without the scary thunder and lightning," Phillip said, coming out and wrapping himself in the warm towel the sorcerer held for him.

After getting into his nightshirt and socks, Phillip let Rum carry him to his room, for though he could walk there on his own, he liked it when his new father held him. "Will you read me a story, Papa?"

"Yes, but first I want to talk to you about something," Rum said quietly, sitting down on the bed with the little boy on his lap. "A few days ago, when you accidentally broke my cabinet, why were you so afraid I'd kill you? Or use my magic to hurt you? Have I ever done that?"

Phillip shook his head. "No, but . . . I know the cabinet was . . umm . . . expensive and . . . Pinocchio said . . . he said that some older kids were saying that if he got you mad, you'd magic him into a toad or something. I told him you wouldn't at first, but then after we broke the cabinet . . . he kept saying it and I . . . I got afraid and that's why I thought I was dead when it broke all over."

"Phillip, have you ever seen me use magic on one of you as a punishment?"

"Umm . . . no."

"No, and do you know why? Because I know better than that. Do you remember the story I told you, about the cursed dagger?"

Phillip nodded. "Uh huh. You said the curse was broken 'cause Bae, Ivy, and Finn loved you."

"That's right. The Dark One's curse was broken long ago, and I no longer use my magic to harm people, unless they try and harm me or my family. But some people, they still remember what I was like as the Dark One, and they refuse to believe I've changed. They fear my magic, and so they fear me. Sometimes that's what happens when you've done something wrong, people remember the bad things and not the good you've done since. But I don't ever want you to be afraid of me that way, Phillip. I don't use magic to punish my children, I never have, so if you ever do anything wrong again, don't be afraid I'll turn you into a bug and step on you."

Phillip gazed into his father's brown eyes and saw that he was telling the truth. He didn't need to be afraid of Rumple or his magic, and he nodded slowly. "I'll remember, Papa. Pinocchio was just being silly. And Finn told me you only get spanked if you've done something awful bad, like riding Flicker again without asking or being a horrible brat like Nick was."

"Finn's right. Like your mom, I'll only spank you if you've done something to truly earn one, and even then, lad, I'll always forgive you afterwards."

"Mom says that too. And she says she'll love me even if I'm the worst brat ever."

"Yes, and so will I. Always. Because that's what love is, Phillip. It's caring about someone in spite of all the mistakes you've made. My children taught me that and I've never forgotten it. And don't you forget it either. No matter what you've done, lad, you can always come to me for help. I might scold you first, but I will never turn you away and I will always forgive you for whatever you've done. Because I love you, Phillip, mistakes and all, just the way you are." He hugged the boy to him then, and was relieved to have the little boy's arms come around his neck and hug him back.

"I'm glad you're my papa now," Phillip said happily. "I used to wish my old one came back, but you're better than he ever was. Rafe says he never played with him or told him stories or anything. But you do and you make Mom happy too. Could you tell me a story now? Or show me a magic trick? Please?"

"I'll do better than that. I'll do both," Rumple said. He snapped his fingers and several balls of colored light appeared in front of him. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Arthur, who juggled for a living," As he spoke, he made the colored balls of light float into his hand, where he tossed them up and down gently, making them revolve in a circle. "One day, Arthur met an old woman going to the market, and she asked him if he could spare her a crust of bread, for she was very hungry. 'Feed me, young master," she begged. 'And in return I shall give you these beans in my pocket.'" Rumple snapped his wrist, and all the colored balls resolved into six small beans on his palm.

Phillip clapped his hands and asked, "Were they magic beans, Papa?"

"You'll see. Listen," Rumple answered, and continued the old familiar tale, using the magical lights to illustrate certain parts of the story. "So Arthur gave her half of the bread and cheese his mom had given him for lunch, because no one should go hungry, and the old woman thanked him and gave him six beans. 'Plant them and something wonderful shall grow, boy' she told him. 'For your kindness shall have its reward.' And later on, when Arthur came home, he did as she had said, and the next day a magical beanstalk had grown in his yard . . ."

"Yes! I knew they were magic beans!" Phillip cheered, and then he grinned as Rumple's wrist flicked out and the beans grew into a purple bean stalk. "That's so cool, Papa! What happened next?"

"Arthur shook the bean stalk and loaves of bread came tumbling down, along with a shower of gold coins . . ." Rumple gestured and the bean stalk suddenly rained down golden lights and tiny loaves of bread.

Phillip leaned back against Rum's shoulder, growing sleepy, and content to drowse while he listened to the story and watched his papa do funny magic tricks with balls of light. He couldn't wait to tell Pinocchio and those other boys that he had the coolest papa ever, who could make light into pictures and told the best stories and who would love him forever, the way his old one never had. And so what if he had magic? The magic was the best part of him.

Belle came in by the door then, to tuck her son in for the night, and saw Rumple and Phillip together. She smiled and was glad all over again that she'd fallen in love with Rumplestiltskin, who was not the beast some thought he was, but a caring and faithful man, who loved her and her children with everything in him, who would never betray her or sneer at her for being too smart and thinking she was a man's equal, and whose magic brought light and hope into her ordinary life beyond anything she had ever imagined. _Love is hope. It fuels our dreams and makes the impossible possible. _She put a hand over her belly, which was still flat but she could sense the life growing within her. _Little one, you will know the best of both worlds, and never worry about missing a father or mother, or whether you're a Gold or an Avonlea. You'll just be ours, child of a sorcerer and a Healer, and loved no matter what._

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

By midnight, several ewes had already given birth to lambs, Bae had to help with one, turning it around so it was born correctly, while Rennie stood guard, but finally the lamb was lying on the grass and being licked by its mother. On the opposite side of the pasture, Peter was standing, his sling held in one hand, eyeing the deep shadows at the edge of the woods. He was almost certain he had seen something move, but he was unable to see past the light from his lantern.

Bae had told him to never stare directly into a bright light at night, because then the light blinded you and you couldn't see into darkness. So Peter looked at the beam of light crosswise, and tried again to see into the shadows.

But there was nothing. All was quiet. He relaxed for a fraction of a second.

Then he heard it, the sharp scream, that sounded like someone being tortured, or an old woman being terrified.

He froze.

The sheep began milling about, baaing frantically, huddling into a tight ball, for they sensed danger even though they couldn't see it.

Peter stuck a stone into his sling, ready to cast it at whatever came out of the darkness. The scream came again, high and wild, and sent shivers down his spine.

It was followed by what sounded like a whinny.

Suddenly he felt Rennie tap him on the shoulder. "You okay? That was a mountain cat screaming."

"Fine. But where is it? And I just heard a horse."

"A horse? All of ours are in the barn tonight," she said, frowning.

"I swear, I heard one," he argued softly. "Listen."

Again there came a high-pitched whinny and the sound of hoofbeats.

The sheep behind them were scrambling towards Bae's side of the pasture, and Rennie was about to follow when suddenly a white shape appeared at the edge of the woods and the pasture fence, running hard in the moonlight.

"Gods! It is a horse!" she gasped. "Maybe it ran away from somewhere nearby. Or it's wild."

Behind it moved a dark shape, all sinew and deadly quickness, running with the swift deadly lope of a predator intent on catching its prey.

The mountain cat.

"No!" Peter cried.

But the white horse couldn't outrun her pursuer, and then the cat leaped, landing on her back with deadly grace.

The horse screamed and went down, the cat on top, clawing.

"No!" Peter yelled, and let fly with his sling.

The stone glanced off the big beast, but it didn't stop the cat from attacking.

Peter quickly threw another and another in rapid succession. He heard the cat snarl, and the clatter of the stones hitting the ground near it.

Suddenly Bae was there, drawing back his hunting bow, and then the sharp hiss of an arrow in flight was heard.

There came a sharp yowl from the cat.

"I think I hit it," Bae said, and they watched the black shape leap away and run off through the trees.

Behind it, the white mare lay still on the ground.

"Let's go and see the horse. I think it's hurt," Peter said.

Rennie grabbed his shoulder. "Pete, wait! It could be dangerous."

He shrugged. "Fine. You stay here with the sheep. _I'm _going to see if the horse is . . . if it's . . . okay." He almost said "dead" but didn't even want to think about that possibility.

"I'm coming," Bae said. "I think that cat's gone, but you never known and better safe than sorry."

"Hurry!" Peter said, jogging across the pasture.

They reached the white shape in about seven minutes, as it was lying further away than they thought. Peter moaned when he saw the large slashes bleeding in the flanks of the white horse. It lay still on the ground, its white coat glimmering in the moonlight like a fallen star, save for where the blood ran from it.

Bae stared and then gasped. "Pete, that's no horse. It's a unicorn! See the horn?" He pointed out the pearlescent horn, which seemed to glow a little in the moonlight.

Peter stared. He'd never seen a unicorn this close up before. "Bae, can we . . . is she . . .?"

Bae knelt down beside the injured equine and gently took her head on his knee. Her eyes were open, but there was no movement, no flicker of breath. Now that he was close, he could see the terrible claw marks on her sides and neck and the biggest wound at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He shook his head sadly. "Pete . . . I'm sorry, but she's gone . . ."

"But I . . . ah, damn! I was too late." He blinked hard, startled to discover he was crying. But the unicorn had been so beautiful, so alive, watching it run in the moonlight had been like seeing something out of a tale . . . and now it was gone , all its beauty and magic destroyed.

He looked at his brother, feeling tears slip down his cheeks. "That sucks! She was so beautiful!"

"Yeah, I know. Damn cat!" Bae swore, and wiped at his own eyes, gently putting the unicorn's head down on the grass.

"What are we gonna do with her?" Peter asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "Can we bury her?"

"We have to. I don't want to leave her body here, it'll attract other predators, even if the cat won't come back," Bae sighed. "But it'll have to wait until dawn. Then maybe I can get Jack and Rafe to help, and maybe Papa wants some of the hair or something for his potions. Unicorn hair is very valuable."

Peter stared sadly down at the dead unicorn. "I wish . . ."

Suddenly they heard a faint whimper out of the darkness.

"What was that?" Bae asked, drawing his sword.

Peter put another stone into his sling.

Again came an odd little nicker, then a tiny white form trotted from the screen of bushes. It had a tiny horn that glowed a faint blue and its mane and tail were a deep gold color. Its eyes were the color of the sky at midday.

"A foal!" Peter exclaimed. "That's why she couldn't run fast. She had a foal!"

Bae lowered his sword and sheathed it as the foal trotted up and nuzzled the dead unicorn, whinnying pathetically when the mother did not move or otherwise acknowledge it. "Aww, hells!"

"_Now_ what do we do?" Peter asked, the loss of the unicorn making his heart ache all over again as he watched the poor baby trying to wake its mother.

"We take it . . . her . . . it's a filly . . . home with us," Bae said quietly. "She's an orphan now. If we leave her here, something will get her for sure."

Peter nodded. "Look at how small she is, Bae! I think she just got born."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

Peter moved then, holding out his hand. "Hey. Little one, don't be afraid. Your mama's gone, but we're gonna take you home. It's all right."

The little unicorn barely lifted her head, still crying over its dead mother. Its legs were spindly and trembling, and slowly it sank to the ground beside the corpse.

Peter took off his blanket, which he'd had around him like a cloak, and wrapped the unicorn in it.

"You want me to carry her?" his brother asked softly.

"No. I can do it. I've carried the goats before," Peter said, and gently picked up the little foal and placed her over his shoulders. He held her four hooves firmly in both hands so she didn't kick him, but the foal seemed exhausted now, and barely struggled.

Bae looked up at the moon and the stars and said, "It's past midnight. We can probably herd all the sheep back into the pen by the house now, I think all the lambs have been born. You go on ahead with the foal, Pete, and Rennie and I will get the sheep in."

"Should I put her in the barn, Bae?"

"No. Bring her up to the house. She'll need the warmth and we can keep her in a box in the kitchen for now. I just hope she likes goat's milk."

The filly bleated a little and Peter said, "We can bottle feed her, right? Like you do an orphaned lamb or a kid?"

"Yup. Go on now. It's getting a little chilly and that poor thing is in shock," Bae urged him.

Peter began to jog lightly through the pasture.

Rennie saw and called out, "Pete, what happened to the horse?"

"Rennie, she had a foal, but she died and it wasn't a horse. It was a unicorn!"

"Oh, great gods! You have a baby unicorn there?"

"Yeah, and she's so cute, but I think she's freezing and hungry and I'm bringing her back to the castle."

Rennie walked alongside him, gently petting the foal and saying, "The poor baby! How sweet she is! Quick, Pete, get her inside where it's warm."

"I am. Bae says he can bring in the sheep if you help."

"Okay. See you later," Rennie waved to him, then turned back to help her boyfriend gather the sheep, wondering what her parents were going to say to _this_ midnight visitor when they found out?

**A/N: So, how did you like that father/son moment with Rum and Phil? And aren't Ivy and Myrnin cute together? How did you like that surprise at the end?**


	37. Seventh Daughter

**37**

**Seventh Daughter**

When Peter brought the tiny unicorn into the castle, there was only a single lantern left burning in the kitchen window, and the stove with its coal fire was banked for the night. Everyone was sleeping, everyone save for Rumplestiltskin, who always waited up for their return during lambing season, just in case there was trouble and Bae blew his horn.

Rumple was dozing in his chair, half-awake, when Peter came in the back door, quickly wiping his feet on the mat Belle had put out, and then walking past the small washstand with the unicorn still over his shoulders.

"Papa, look at this!" he whispered.

Rumple woke up immediately, blinked the sleep from his eyes, and said, "What've you got there, Pete? A lamb?"

"No, she's a foal. A _unicorn_ foal!"

Rumple stood and came to examine the newborn foal, who had a fuzzy mane and tail and a horn that was just a stub, plus long ears and a delicate muzzle. Her eyes were fringed with long lashes, almost like a camel's, and they were a brilliant blue, like the sky at midday. Her coat had a pearlescent sheen to it, but was soft as silk.

"Hey there, little one," the sorcerer crooned to the foal, who nuzzled his hand and lipped his fingers curiously. "Now where did you come from, huh?" He gently stroked the little filly, and her horn glowed a faint blue in response.

"We found her, Papa," Peter informed him. "Her dam had been killed by a mountain cat, I tried to save her, but the cat was too fast and it got to her before I could drive it off. Bae and I found her mom lying there, dead. She came over and Bae told me to take her back to the castle and feed her. Can I keep her?"

"Well, we certainly can't let her starve, now can we?" Rumple said. "Let me get a bottle, like we use to feed the twin lambs sometimes."

He summoned one of the bottles with a rubber nipple that they sometimes used to feed a lamb who had been rejected by its mother, which happened on occasion, and filled it with goat's milk mixed with a small amount of water and honey. Then he heated it with his magic until it was just warmed.

"You're good at that," Peter observed.

"I've fed a few orphaned lambs in my time, plus Bae, Ivy, and Clary," his father replied. "There's not too much difference between a human baby and an animal one when you get right down to it." He went and sat down in the chair he'd vacated and said, "Give her to me, Pete. Let's see if she won't take some of this. I'll bet she hardly had time to nurse before her mother tried to lead that cat away."

Peter put the unicorn in Rumple's lap.

The little filly snorted and shook her head, her long ears bobbing up and down.

"Ah ah, now quit squirming," Rumple ordered softly. He held the baby carefully with one arm, and squeezed the bottle until some drops of milk came out of it and onto his fingers. "Here, sweetheart, try this." He held his fingers, dripping with milk, out to the foal.

The foal blew on them, then sniffed and nuzzled, finally licking them and then shaking her head. She gave a soft whinny.

"I think she likes it," Peter said, grinning.

"Sure she does. That's good stuff, right, baby?" Rumple asked, and let the foal suck his fingers. "Hey, now don't bite me!" he said.

"She's got teeth?"

"Small ones, but they'll pinch," Rumple replied. He gently withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the nipple. "Come on, pretty thing, suck this! That's it!" he said enthusiastically as the foal began to drink.

"Rum? Who are you talking to?" Belle queried sleepily, coming into the kitchen. She was wearing fuzzy slippers and a blue nightgown with a velvet robe over it. For one horrified moment, she feared he was entertaining a lady, with how he was talking, and her stomach nearly flipped over, recalling Gaston and her maid-of-honor Jeanette. _Suck on what? Oh, hells!_

Then she saw her husband sitting with a baby unicorn in his lap, and the little thing was sucking upon a bottle he held and she chided herself for her stupidity. Of course Rum would never do what Gaston had done to her. "Oh, my goodness! Where did you get a foal?" she asked.

"Hello, dearie! She came in with Pete from the pasture," Rumple said, as the foal bobbed her head and the bottle slipped from her mouth. Milk splattered all over the unicorn and Rumple. "Hey, now I don't need a bath!" the sorcerer cried.

Peter and Belle giggled at the sight of the usually composed sorcerer covered with milk droplets and the unicorn poked him in the chin, whinnying.

"Feed her, Rum!" Belle said, laughing. "She wants more."

"I'm trying!" the sorcerer said, bringing the bottle back towards the baby's questing mouth. "Here, sweetheart, it's right here."

Finally the foal latched onto the nipple again and began to suck greedily.

Belle came and petted the tiny head gently. "Oh, she's darling! Feel how soft her coat is! Like watered silk. And look at the tiny little hooves!" She picked one up, it fit in her hand, and was silvery colored.

Rumple grunted as one of the tiny little hooves poked him in the stomach as the foal extended her head to drink the milk more quickly. "Easy there! Otherwise I'm going to be black and blue before you've finished this, pretty girl." He looked at his wife. "Belle, would you mind . . . err . . . moving her so she's not digging her hind legs into me? She's getting close to a certain part of me that I don't think you want her to damage."

Belle gently lifted the unicorn, wrapping the blanket more securely about her small frame and settling her on her side on Rum's lap, so her hooves weren't poking him in sensitive places. "There, love. Aww, you look so darned . . . _cute_!"

Rumple smirked. "Which one of us are you talking about?"

"Both of you. She's adorable . . . and so are you, even if you do have milk on your nose," Belle teased, and gently wiped off the milk with her finger. "Where did you find her, Pete?"

So Peter recounted the whole tale again while the foal nursed, drinking the whole bottle and then looking about for more, while mouthing Rum's shirt.

"Nothing there, dearie. Sorry," he told the little unicorn.

"Here. Let me get some more," Belle said. She prepared a second bottle under her husband's direction, then gave it to the little foal, laughing softly as the unicorn sucked it down. "Oh, she's precious, Rum! Just look at her ears, all floppy!"

"She'll grow into them," Rum said, holding her steady while she nursed. Some milk dripped from her tiny mouth down his pant leg, but he just shrugged. Feeding an orphaned animal was sometimes a messy business, just like feeding a human one.

Abruptly, the foal sneezed, and milk splattered all over Belle and Rumple.

Peter started laughing at the foal's startled expression and the fact that his parents were now covered in milk, and looked like refugees.

"What are you laughing at, boy?" Belle demanded, wiping her eyes.

Just then Bae and Rennie came in, took one look at their parents, and started howling with laughter.

"Baelfire, really!" Rumple scolded.

"It's not funny, Serenity," Belle said, trying to wipe milk off her cheek.

"No, Mom, it's not funny," Serenity said, smothering a giggle. "It's hilarious!"

"And we were worried they might not take to her," Bae snickered. "I don't know why!"

"Okay, now you've had your fun, children," Rumple began. "Get us a towel."

Bae went over and snagged one of Ivy's dishcloths from the counter. He handed it to Rumple, who quickly wiped his face, then gave it to Belle, who scrubbed hers and part of her chest before flicking the end of it at her still-sniggering son's behind.

"Hey!" Bae yelped.

"Hay is for horses, you wretch!" Belle mock-scolded. "Speaking of which, this little one's going to need some to sleep in."

"I'll get some, Mom!" said Peter, and he ran out to the barn.

"Can I feed her now?" asked Rennie.

"Be my guest," Belle said, handing her the bottle. "Now I need to get changed."

Rumple wriggled his fingers at her, and her robe and nightgown were suddenly dry again.

"Thanks, Rum," Belle said gratefully. She patted him dry with the dishcloth while Rennie fed the bottle to the little unicorn, who was growing sleepy.

Peter returned with the hay and Bae helped put it on the floor beside the stove. "She'll be warm enough here with a blanket tonight," he said. "I can build her a box tomorrow."

The foal's ears drooped as she grew full and quit sucking.

Rennie pulled the bottle away, saying, "I think she's full now. Aww, she's sleepy!"

"Better put her to bed then," her father said, and Rennie took the foal and placed her on the hay, covering her with the blanket.

The unicorn sighed and curled up in the clean straw, put her head on her front hooves and closed her eyes, falling asleep in moments.

The five of them looked at their new addition for a few moments, until Belle said, "All right, now let's go off to bed. It's almost two o'clock in the morning."

"What are we going to name her?" Peter wondered.

"We can discuss that tomorrow," Rumple said. "Up to bed with you, lad!" He gently took his son by the shoulders and turned him about, sending him out of the kitchen with a gentle tap on the bottom.

The rest of them soon followed, leaving their new guest sleeping soundly on the straw, safe and sound, despite her shaky start in life.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, everyone made much of their new pet, and the conversation at breakfast revolved around what to name the newest addition to the Gold family. The discussion began to grow a little too heated, so Rumple declared there was only one way to solve the issue—everyone would write down a name for the unicorn and he would put it in a hat and pick one out of it. Whatever name he picked would be the unicorn's.

So they all thought and wrote down a name, even Myrnin. Clary tugged on Belle's sleeve. "Mama, I need help," she said. "I can't write the name I want. I don't know how to spell it."

"All right, Clary, honey. You tell me the name you want and I'll write it for you on the paper," Belle said, then she leaned over so Clary could whisper it in her ear.

Nick rolled his eyes. "I hope it's not something dumb."

Clary glared at him. "My name's not dumb, Nick'las!"

"Nick, be nice!" Belle scolded, writing down Clary's choice on the slip of paper.

After about half an hour, Rumple gathered all the names and put them in one of his hats. He stirred them with his hand. Then he set the hat down on the table and waited.

"Papa, what are you doing?" asked Elaina.

"Just waiting, dearie."

"Why?" asked Tom.

Rumple just shrugged.

He waited almost five minutes before the children began to groan, "Papa, please! Pick one!"

"All right, don't get impatient," he said, then reached inside the hat and withdrew a slip of paper.

All the children waited, hardly daring to breathe as Rumple unfolded the paper and announced, "And the name of our newest member is . . .Sweetheart."

Some of the boys, especially Nick, groaned at that.

But Clary jumped up and down, squealing, "You picked mine! And we can call her Sweetie for short!"

"Figures!" Nick muttered. "I wanted Moon Racer and instead we get some stupid—"

"Nicholas!" Belle snapped. "Not another word, or else you can scrub the kitchen floor all by yourself. Fair's fair, and you all had an even chance of getting the name you put in picked. Now stop scowling or else your face will freeze that way."

"Well, _I_ like it," Nora declared.

"You would!" her twin groused.

"I think it's cute," said June.

"It's too girly," Nick muttered.

"She _is_ a girl!" Clary snapped. "So there!"

"That's true," Myrnin chuckled. "You can't argue with that."

Peter nodded. "Besides, Papa called her that last night, when he fed her the first time, so it fits."

"And she really is sweet," Rennie added.

"Just like sugar," Jasmine sang. "And I'd better talk to Rajah and Rowen and make sure they don't scare her. Baron too."

"Whose turn is it to feed her?" asked Tom.

"Mine," said Peter.

"We'll make up a schedule," Rumple said, forestalling any more arguing. "You can all have a turn. She'll need to eat every few hours. I'll put it up on the wall in the kitchen."

"What are you feeding her?" asked Myrnin.

Rumple told him, and the half-elf said, "You might want to add some rosewater and lavender essence to that. Unicorns love to eat flowers, there's something in there that provides them with nutrients. At least that's what my tutor Mistress Glistenheart told me."

"Thank you, Myrnin," Rumple said quietly. "Belle, do you have any of that on hand?"

"I have rosewater and some distilled lavender essence," his wife replied. "How much do we put in?"

"Umm . . . a few drops of each, I think," said Myrnin.

"We should mix up some batches of milk and flowers to have on hand," Rennie said practically.

"I can do that," Ivy said. "I'll use my magic to blend it well."

"And I'll build her a box she can stay in," Bae said.

"Can I help?" asked Phillip.

"Me too!" said Nick.

"And me," said Jack.

"You can all help," Bae said. "You bring me some wood, Jack. And you bring me some nails, Nick. Phil, you get the hammer."

As the little boys scattered, Rafe said, "That was slick, Bae. Getting them all to cooperate like that."

"Well, I learned that trick from Papa," Bae said modestly.

"What can I get, Bae?" Clary asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Uh . . . you can get me . . . my ruler, I'll need it to measure," her brother said. "It's in my room, on my desk."

Clary scurried from the room.

Soon all the boys and Clary returned with the requested items, and Bae began building the box.

Nick, Jack, and Phillip all sat around, watching Bae.

Myrnin and Ivy went off to have more language lessons in the study, while Jasmine, Kristen, and Rafe brought their pets into the kitchen to introduce them to Sweetheart while Peter fed her. Tom went off to find Puss and hunt down some mice that have gotten into the pantry. June and Nora helped Belle and Aurora with the dishes, and Ariel accompanied Finn to feed the chickens and gather more clean straw for Sweetie's bed. Elaina went upstairs to rearrange her hair into a new style while Rennie made a batch of formula.

Clary ran up to her room and brought down her ivory hairbrush and a pink ribbon. She ran over to Rumple and said, "I'm gonna brush Sweetie when they're all done with her. And put this in her hair."

"I'm sure she'll like that, dearie. But for now, let me fix your hair, it looks like a bird's nest," her father said.

Clary climbed up on his knee, she was used to him doing this.

Rumple calmly brushed his little girl's red-gold hair, making it shine like a new penny. He carefully tied it back with the pink ribbon into a small bow, and said, "You can get a new one for Sweetie, this one was too small."

Clary turned to look at him, and asked, "Do you think Sweetheart's a good name for our unicorn, Papa?"

"I think it's a lovely name, Clary. It fits her, because she has a gentle nature. The boys will get used to it in time and stop being grouchy brats about it."

Clary leaned her head on his chest and said, "I knew it wasn't a stupid name."

"Of course not. There's not a stupid bone in your body, Clary Gold. You're as bright as a brass button, dearie." Then he tweaked her nose, making her giggle.

"I'm gonna get my pencils and draw a picture," his daughter told him, and scrambled down from his lap.

"On paper, Clarissa," he reminded her.

"I know!" she yelled back.

Rumple watched as his youngest happily drew a rainbow and what was supposed to be a unicorn beneath it and some flowers. He loved all of his children, but the small imp sitting beside him claimed a large portion of his heart, and had since the day he had found her in a basket on the front doorstep, with a note tucked into her wrappings stating that she was the unwanted seventh daughter of the Earl of Myrtlewood and therefore suitable as an offering to the Dark One. He had been horrified and angry—at her father, not the beautiful baby with the midnight blue eyes and reddish curls. She had cried a little, but when he'd picked her up, she had looked straight into his eyes, and he lost his heart to her then and there.

Clary finished coloring in the picture, then she showed her father it, saying, "It's for you, Papa!"

"All for me? It's wonderful, Clary-belle. I'll put it in my study on the wall with your other ones." He had a wall behind his desk where he pinned artwork his children had made, and a good deal of those pictures were from Clary, who loved to draw as well as play tea party.

"Now I'm gonna draw one for Mama," the little girl declared, and began to color in a big red heart on the paper.

After she had finished Belle's picture, Clary decided it was time to go brush Sweetheart, and she went into the kitchen, where the baby unicorn was lying and gently combed the little foal's mane. She giggled when Sweetie nuzzled her cheek and she stroked the little foal's head and the unicorn's horn lit up.

Peter recalled the foal's horn doing that last night when Rumple had touched her as well, and went into the dining room and asked his father, "Papa, what's it mean when the foal's horn lights up?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but a unicorn's horn is one of the most powerful magical items there is, so perhaps it lights when it senses a kindred spirit."

"But Clary has no magic."

"Right now she doesn't. Actually, she's too young for me to tell," Rumple explained. "She could have magic later on. But there's something else about Clary that you might not know, Pete. She's a seventh daughter. And the seventh children are often blessed with luck and good fortune, or so they say. Perhaps the foal senses that in her."

Peter looked thoughtful. "I guess. And it's lucky she ended up here with you instead of somewhere else."

"Very lucky. Her father was a poor excuse for a man, abandoning her that way, but at least here she's loved, and there are worse things than being the daughter of a former dark sorcerer."

"Yeah, like being Regina's daughter." Peter shuddered. "I feel sorry for Snow White."

"So do I. I can only imagine what that girl has to go through," Rumple said.

"What girl?" Belle asked.

"Snow," answered Rumple. "Peter was saying how he felt sorry for her, having to live with Regina."

Belle nodded. "Regina is, or so I imagine, a difficult woman to please, even without worrying about her magic. She's the kind who give all of us stepmothers a bad name."

Just then Elaina came in with a half-sewn jacket, and asked, "Mom, can you show me how to do that double whip stitch again? My seams aren't holding here."

Belle came and took the needle and thread from Elaina and began to demonstrate the stitch, and Peter slipped away outside to see the new lambs, while Rumple began making a schedule to feed Sweetheart.

While they were doing that, Clary came back into the dining room holding her brush, which was filled with soft white hairs, and there was unicorn hair clinging to her nightgown as well. "Papa, I brushed Sweetie!" she announced, holding the brush out for him to see.

Elaina and Belle looked up from their stitching, and Elaina cried in dismay, "Oh, Clary, you're a wreck! You have unicorn hair all over you and . . . did you really use your hairbrush on that foal? That's—"

"—perfectly fine, Elaina," Belle interrupted her tirade before she could work herself into a tizzy. "Your father can use the unicorn hair Clary collected in his potions, right, Rum?"

"Oh, yes." He turned and waved a hand at Clary and all the hair on her nightgown jumped off and rolled itself into a small ball, as did the hair on Clary's brush. "Thank you, dearie, for collecting it for me. Unicorn hair is excellent for making drafts of healing and renewal."

"And you have the hair and the horn of the mother as well," Bae reminded him as he came into the room for a cup of coffee.

"What mother?" Clary asked, perplexed.

"Uh . . . the one who . . .err . . . we buried this morning," Bae said reluctantly. Then he put a hand over his mouth and muttered, "Damn, why did I tell her that?"

Clary looked at him, her big blue eyes wide. "You mean . . . Sweetie's mom _died_?"

"Uh . . . well, yeah, but . . ." Bae stammered, trying to cover his slip.

Clary's face crumpled and she started to cry. "But why she'd die, Bae? I don't want the unicorn mom to die!"

"Aww, Clary! I'm sorry . . ." her brother began, and went to hug her, but the little girl pulled away and ran to Belle instead, burying her face in Belle's skirts.

Belle stroked her hair and patted her back, saying softly, "Don't cry, baby. Sometimes—" she tried to think up a way to explain circumstances and death to the four-year-old when Clary lifted her face up to look at her.

"Mama, can't you fix her? Sweetie's mom?"

Belle picked her up then and held her. "No, little one."

"But you're a Healer. Why not?"

"Because even a Healer can't fix death, Clary."

"But why?"

"Because everything dies sometime, Clary. And it's terribly sad, but that's the way it is," Belle told her softly, having asked this same question of her father as girl when she had tried to save an injured starling and it had died. "There's a time and a place for all things, a balance between life and death, and if nothing ever died, then nothing could live. The unicorn mother was hurt very badly, Clary, and in a lot of pain, and the gods in their mercy called her to them rather than making her suffer. And now she's in a better place, among the stars, and she watches over her baby from there."

"But now Sweetie has no mom," Clary objected.

"She has us, love. We'll take care of her now and love her like her mother would."

"Like you do to me?"

"Yes. Just like that," Belle said, hugging her.

The little girl was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she said, "Okay. I'm gonna take care of her and love her lots and lots."

"You do that, Clary," Belle smiled at her, and wiped her face with her handkerchief.

After a few moments, the child got down and ran into the kitchen, and Belle said to Rum, "I hope I did the right thing."

"You did great, dearie. Better than I would have."

"I should have kept my big mouth shut, then you wouldn't have had to tell her anything," Bae lamented.

"No, she had to learn about this sometime," Belle disagreed. "And better now from me than later from someone else."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Jack invited Ray over to see the unicorn, as he had never seen a real one either, only in storybooks. But when the two horse-crazy boys came into the kitchen to see Sweetheart, they almost fell over.

For there was Clary, sitting on the floor on one of the picnic blankets, with her tea set spread out in front of her and two of her dolls on one side. On the other side was Sweetheart, lying on her straw bed in the box Bae had made, wearing a large straw hat with flowers. The foal's ears were through the ear holes and had flopped over, and the hat's lavender ribbons were tied lopsidedly under her chin. A small cup of milk was in front of her, as well as a saucer with some sugar lumps on it.

Clary was holding a tea cup in one hand, and saying earnestly to the unicorn, " . . .and if you want more sugar, you say, "Please pass the sugar, Clary," and when I give you it, you say, "Thank you", 'cause it's polite. You gots to 'member that, Sweetie, 'cause polite girls get invited to more tea parties, and rude nasty ones stay home and sit in time out with nothing."

Ray goggled. "Uh, Jack? Is she . . . playing tea party with your unicorn? And trying to teach it manners?"

Jack groaned. "Clary, for gods' sake! Sweetie's a _unicorn_, not one of your dolls. And unicorns don't play tea party. Or say please and thank you, they're like horses."

"So?" his little sister said, looking at them. "Mama said she has no mother now, so _I_ have to be her mom and that's what I'm doing. Hi, Ray! You wanna help?"

Ray started laughing. "Uh, can I pet her first?"

"Sure," Clary said.

"Clary, take that stupid hat off her," Jack objected. "Unicorns don't play dress up."

"_She_ does, Jack! I had Jasmine ask her, and Sweetie told her she _likes_ playing with me. So there!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother!"

Ray knelt and petted the unicorn, who sniffled at him curiously, making him smile. "She sure is cute. What's her name again?"

"Sweetheart," Jack said. "Clary picked it. I wanted Starlight, but Papa had us put all the names we'd chosen in a hat and then he picked one and that's what she's called."

"It could be worse. She could be called Lovey-dovey or something," Ray said, grinning.

"Ugh! Don't make me puke!" Jack gagged.

"Papa said Sweetheart's a good name for her," Clary stated. "So don't make fun of it, Jack!"

"I wasn't. C'mon, Ray. Let's go ride Steady, before Clary makes you play with her too."

Ray rose and after giving the unicorn one last pat, followed Jack out the back door. "Your little sister's funny," he said as they made their way to the stables. "I think I'd like to have a little sister."

"You would? Clary's okay sometimes. But most of the time she's a pain in my—"

He stopped abruptly as they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

Ray turned and said, "Oh, hi, Master Gold!"

"Hi, Papa. I was just taking Steady out so Ray could ride him." Jack said, flushing.

"Of course you were. Have fun. And Ray, if you do have a little sister, count yourself lucky. Right, Jack?" Rumple cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, sir," his son answered, then he grabbed his friend's hand and dragged him into the stables.

Rumple continued on into the castle, intending to get himself a snack before having lessons with June, Ariel, Finn, and Kristen. As he entered the kitchen, smiling at his youngest as she played with the unicorn, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it, Papa," Bae called, then muttered, "Who on earth is visiting us at this time of day?"

"Papa, do you want some tea?" Clary asked.

"No, thank you, dearie. I'm going to have some cider and a few of those cherry tarts that Rennie made," he told her. He had just started to eat one when Bae came back into the kitchen, looking shocked. "What's the matter, Bae? Who was at the door, some tinker trying to sell you cheap tin kettles?"

Bae shook his head, glanced at Clary, then said, "Papa, it's . . . she's . . . come with me into the sitting room, quick! I left her in the hall, but . . ."

"Baelfire, what on earth? You're acting like Regina's come to call."

Rumplestiltskin followed his son into the sitting room, where Belle was knitting a cap for the new baby. "Who was at the door, Rum?"

"Bae, tell us."

"It's . . . Lady Alessandra Denham of Myrtlewood. You know, Papa! She's Clary's . . .sister! From her birth family."

Rumple felt his heart seize. "Did she say what she wanted, Bae?"

Bae nodded. "She said she wants to see Clary."

"Why?" his father asked sharply. "They gave her up to me four years ago. I'm not giving her back to them, those damned cold-hearted buzzards. They'll take her over my dead body!" He was so agitated that flickers of purple magic danced about his fingers.

"Rum, calm down!" Belle said, laying a hand on his arm.

"I ought to throw her damn noble ass right out of my castle!" he said furiously. "How dare she come here now?"

Bae stared at Rumple in shock. He'd never seen his father totally lose it before, except when under the dagger's influence, and watching his usually composed parent suddenly become a raging beast was an unpleasant surprise.

"Rumplestiltskin!" Belle snapped, grabbing his arm before he could rush out of the room and do something to their unexpected guest he'd regret. "You're getting all bent out of shape and you don't even know why she's come here."

"I don't _care_ why she's come here, Belle. I just want her gone."

"Rumple, let me talk to her. You're so out of control right now you might set her on fire by accident," Belle said quickly. "You stay here and . . . and calm down before you give yourself a stroke." She pushed him down onto the settle. "And nobody's taking Clary away, darling. I'll settle this. Now just breathe, Rum."

She left, the skirts of her yellow day dress swishing softly as she exited the sitting room, her head erect, her bearing elegant and poised, as she had been as princess of Avonlea.

Her husband stared after her, his eyes glinting, then he sighed heavily and began doing some of his meditation exercises, bringing his magic back under control. He had to trust Belle. She would never let anything happen to the children.

"Papa, she can't take Clary from us, right? Not after so long and you've adopted her," Bae said softly, his dark eyes worried.

"No. And if they try, I'll send then running out of here on four legs, squealing like a stuck pig," Rumple said fiercely. "She's _my_ daughter now. _Mine._"

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Lady Alessandra looked to be a little older than Baelfire, Belle observed as she came towards her. She resembled Clary a little with the same dark blue eyes and hair that was more blond than red. She had on a lovely blue gown, such as one would wear to an afternoon tea, with white kid gloves that came up to her elbows, and small high-topped kid boots with tiny jewels on them. Small pearl earrings and a matching choker completed her ensemble, but despite her outward signs of wealth, she seemed rather ill-at-ease and nervous.

"Hello. I'm Lady Belle Gold, wife of Rumplestiltskin," Belle greeted her.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Alessandra said, giving her a curtsey. "I'm Lady Alessandra Denham, daughter of the Earl of Myrtlewood. I apologize for my coming here unannounced, I should have sent my card around, but . . . you see . . . no one knows I'm here, Lady Gold. If my father knew . . . he'd be furious, as would my fiancée. We . . . Father said we're never to discuss . . . what he did, that we're supposed to forget . . . it ever happened. He . . . he won't even admit what he did was wrong . . . he . . . had it put out that the baby died . . . only . . . we all know it's not true."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because . . . I can't stop thinking about it. My mother died bringing her into the world, Lady Gold, she only held her for a minute or two before she passed on, but I . . . I named her, Clarissa, after Mama, and I would have kept her, but Father went mad and he . . . he said she was a . . . monster, that she killed Mama, even though she was never very strong, not after so many years of bearing daughters and two stillborn sons. We were all sick with grief from Mama dying and he bade us leave the baby with the wet nurse and stay in our rooms. I was exhausted and I fell asleep . . . when I woke, the baby was gone, he'd taken her away to give as an offering to the Dark One . . . and he said her name was never again to be mentioned in this house . . . that we were to tell anyone who asked that our sister died with our mother. . .and for four years I obeyed, like a dutiful daughter, but I never stopped wondering what happened to her . . ." Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Lady, I know I have no right . . . not after what Father did . . . but this was the only chance I had . . . Father and Bernard are away in the king's city, and I thought I would just come and see . . . if she was all right . . . and not . . . not . . ."

"Not some slave to the Dark One, you mean?" Rumple said accusingly. "Not turned into a statue or some twisted half-creature."

Alessandra shrank away, clutching her small reticule in front of her like a shield. "My lord . . . forgive me . . . I didn't mean to intrude . . ."

"Rumple!" Belle said warningly.

"Oh no, dearie. Since you're here now, you may as well see for yourself . . . how the baby you dumped on my doorstep is treated by the infamous Dark One," Rumple sneered. "Come and see for yourself, Countess." He bowed mockingly, every line in his body rigid, and gestured for her to follow him.

Alessandra trembled, then she seemed to gather her courage, and walked across the foyer to stand next to him. "My lord, you have every reason to hate me and my family . . ."

"Quite," Rumple said bitingly.

"But it was Father's idea to give her to you . . . never mine . . . I would have kept her always . . ."

"Oh? And what sort of life would that have been, with a father who despised her?" Rumple demanded.

Alessandra colored faintly. "You're right . . . it would have been dreadful . . . and I've often thought . . . maybe she was better off with you, so long as you . . . weren't . . . using her in some magical experiment . . . I mean . . ."

"Come and see for yourself, Countess, how I've treated your lost sister these past four years," Rumplestilskin said, his voice harsh though still soft.

He led her into the kitchen, where Clary still sat on the floor, surrounded by her toys, one arm about Sweetheart, her red-gold head leaning against the foal's shoulder, eating a cherry tart and giggling as the foal lipped at her nightgown, where some of it had dripped.

Alessandra stared at her, her eyes wide, one hand going to her mouth. "Oh! She looks . . . just like Mama. So very like . . ." Two tears slipped down her cheeks as she watched Clary hugging the unicorn. "Father would never . . . is that a unicorn foal?"

"It is," Rumple said. "This is a magician's home, dearie, of course I'd have a magical pet or two around the place."

His sarcasm was lost on the young countess, but Belle elbowed him and hissed, "Rumple, stop it!"

Alessandra continued watching the little girl and the unicorn for a few more minutes before drawing away, returning to the foyer. Rumplestiltskin and Belle followed.

"Satisfied now, dearie?" Rumple queried sarcastically. "I don't have her sweeping the floor or cutting off her fingers to stick in my cauldron or beating her with whips. Not what you expected at all, is it? It alleviates some of the guilt, no?"

"Rumplestiltskin, for gods' sake!" Belle reproved. "Stop taking out your temper on this poor girl. The one you should be angry with is her father."

"No, he is right, my lady," Alessandra said quickly. "We've always heard stories . . . and never bothered to find out the truth . . . until now. I misjudged him, but now I see . . . Clarissa has a good home here, much better than any I could give her, especially with my father being the way he is . . . that's all I wished to know, that she was safe and happy . . ."

"Then you don't wish to take her with you?" asked Rumple, a little mollified by her sincere apology. "To rescue her from the Dark One?"

"No, archmagus Gold," Alessandra said quietly. "And if you're a dark sorcerer, then I'm an evil witch with warts. I can see quite plainly that you . . . love her the way my father never could have. Something died in him that day and he has never been the same . . . to so despise his own child . . . I suppose we were lucky that he didn't do worse than leave her with you . . . but then, you know the legend of the seventh daughter, if anyone would . . ."

"_Seven is magic, as any fool can see,_

_And to a seventh daughter shall be given powers three,_

_Luck, insight, and a healing touch,_

_Thrice blessed for all her life,_

_Even when she becomes a wife,"_ Rumple recited. "Yes, I know the legend. Pity your father never thought about it. Then again, his loss is my gain."

"Is the legend true then?" Belle asked.

Rumple shrugged. "It may be. Only time will tell. But I didn't take her in because of that, Lady Alessandra. Most legends have only a grain of truth to them, as any sorcerer worth his salt knows. I took her because she was an unwanted orphan, or as good as, and I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her."

"I know," Alessandra said. "I can see that now, and I'm glad . . . for she deserves better than what my father would have given her, which is nothing save coldness and disapproval for something that wasn't her fault. Thank you for letting me see her . . . that's all I wanted." She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Perhaps I've been a bit too harsh, Lady Denham," Rumple said then. "You could stay for tea . . . maybe even talk to Clary if you'd like?"

Alessandra shook her head rapidly. "Oh no, please, that would be too awkward. She's not . . . my family anymore. I don't want to get her confused or . . . or anything. She's your daughter, Archmagus Gold, and that's the way it should be. I just . . . I'm getting married in a week and moving away to my husband's kingdom in Briony, and I only wanted to see her one last time. She's happy, safe, and loved. That's enough for me. Now I can marry and be at peace, knowing Clarissa has a good home and family. It's what my mother would have wanted."

"If you're sure?" Rumplestiltskin eyed her thoughtfully.

"I am, sir. It's better this way. She's where she's meant to be. A seventh daughter for a sorcerer, who will love her best of all. She is truly blessed to have you, sir."

"No, it is we who are blessed to have her," Belle corrected.

Alessandra smiled. "Thank you, Lord and Lady Gold. And now, I must be going, before I'm missed. Farewell!" She turned and walked quickly out the door, holding her plumed hat on her head, and mounted her horse. She glanced back only once, and waved, saying softly, "Farewell, little sister! And may you be blessed thrice all your life."

Then she rode away, racing down the hill and away down the track past the village, never to be seen again.

"Is she gone?" asked Bae, coming over to stand beside his parents in the doorway. He was wearing his sword.

Belle glanced at him. "Why are you wearing that, Bae? Oh, for gods' sake! You and your father are so alike. You act like that girl was some invader coming to storm the castle."

"I'm not going to let anyone take my baby sister," Bae said, his chin jutting out stubbornly. "I don't care who she is."

Rumple patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Bae. She wasn't going to take Clary. Clary's a Gold, and a Gold she'll stay."

"Then what did she want?"

"She wanted . . . a glimpse of her past . . . of what could have been . . . and that's all," Belle answered.

Bae heaved a sigh of relief. "Good, because I was about to kick her out of the castle myself if she tried anything."

"Baelfire! You're your father's son all right," Belle said.

Rumplestiltskin chuckled as they closed the doors and locked them. "Let's have some lunch, Belle. I think my appetite's returned now." He walked into the kitchen and saw his youngest had fallen asleep on the hay with the foal.

He gently picked her up and hugged her to him.

Belle saw and said, "We should put her upstairs for a nap," and she came over to brush the curls from her sleeping daughter's forehead.

"Not yet. I just . . . want to hold her for awhile," Rumple said, and he sat down on a chair with a sleeping Clary cradled in his arms. The sudden appearance of Clary's blood sister had scared him badly, and he needed time to get over the shock, and so he did nothing save hold his baby girl for fifteen minutes, until Belle told him lunch was ready.

Only then did he carry his sleeping daughter upstairs and tuck her into bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before he left. "Sweet dreams, my little princess." Then he set a silent ward upon her room, because even though he was reasonably sure he'd never see any of the Denham's again, he was taking no chances. Clary was a Gold daughter, and a Gold she'd stay, forever.

**A/N: So how did everyone like that? Wasn't the scene with Belle, Rum, and the little unicorn funny? And how did you like Clary and Sweetie together?**


	38. Mischief Squared

**38**

**Mischief Squared**

The rest of August passed slowly, inching ever closer to September, and the fall school session. Ivy's lessons with Myrnin gave the young half-elf an outlet for his restlessness, and his sharp mind quickly picked up words and idioms at an astonishing rate. Soon he was reading at about a ten-year-old level, and could already spell and conjugate verbs better than Nick and Nora. His wound was nearly mended, and Belle took the stitches out one fine Saturday afternoon, though she instructed the boy not to push himself too hard and risk tearing the newly healed skin.

So he waited impatiently another few days before going hunting with Rafe and Rowan, using his bow sparingly, to shoot some game hens, and when the scar he had developed became sore, he stopped shooting for the day. When they came home, Belle examined it and put some salve on it, which would toughen the skin and prevent it from stretching and getting too raw.

It was then that Rumple suggested Myrnin have magic lessons with his magical children. "You said you have problems with your control, lad. Well, I can help with that, if you want me to."

"Would you please?" asked the young magic wielder. "No one's ever been able to help me as much as I wanted, even the great mages of my people. I've been told my magic is too closely aligned with a human's to ever mesh properly with an elf's."

Rumple shook his head. "Now _that_ is ridiculous. Magic is magic, lad. It differs only in how you're taught to use it and what affinity and power level you possess. I'll test you the same as I did my children, and find out where your magic aligns itself. Then we can start lessons."

So he grasped Myrnin's hands in his and concentrated, letting his own magical knowledge sense the boy's aura, feeling it gently, and then withdrawing. The spell took the drawing of two breaths, and then Rumple released Myrnin and said, "Your affinity is like mine, boy, an elemental magician, able to manipulate the energy of all five elements—earth, air, fire, water, and spirit. It's a rare talent, to be sure, but not untrainable. I mastered mine, after all, and with no one to really guide me. Of course, it's harder that way, but I can teach you what you need to know."

"Can you, sir?" Myrnin asked hopefully.

"Certainly," Rumple assured him. "Today you'll come in my workroom with me and have lessons with my other children. We'll start with basic meditation and control exercises and progress from there."

So Myrnin found himself with Ivy, Finn, Jasmine, Ariel, June, and Kristen the next morning in Rumple's workroom. The workroom was a square chamber with interlocking blocks of stone and a stone floor. There was a table in the middle of it, but otherwise no furniture. The room itself was surrounded by magical wards set by Rum himself, wards to block the sudden overflow of magical energy and contain it so it didn't damage anything inside the castle, like other people.

Once the door was shut, it could only be opened by the master magician, to avoid a chance of a grave accident. And all of the children knew that when Rumple was inside the workroom with his students, he was never to be disturbed . . . unless there was a true emergency.

Myrnin stood to one side of the table and watched as the other youngsters separated and began to perform different tasks that Rumple set them.

Ivy set up a bowl and several kinds of herbs and spices in dishes on the table along with some water and flour, preparing to make a dough which she could enhance with different types of ingredients, as that was how her magic worked best.

June began to do small exercises in front of a mirror Rumple set up, and make certain portions of her anatomy glow for a time.

Ariel sang scales and based on the pitch, made a small set of tumblers on the opposite side of the table vibrate, Rumple was trying to determine the rang and power of her vocal cords.

Jasmine practiced the speech of unicorns this morning, the better to communicate with Sweetheart, and also to speed grow a rose bush in a pot Rumple had set in front of her. He wanted her to vary the growth of the roses, leaving some buds, some half-opened, some taller and some fully flowered.

Finn took out his flute and began with the simple warm up scales, later he would play certain tunes and make objects move or call up small animals and control them with his magic.

And Kristen tried to turn her arm into a partial paw of a marten, though this was proving difficult for her to master. Her arm sometimes refused to shift, or when it did, it only did so partially. She sighed and said softly, "Papa, why can't I just _do_ it, like the rest of them?"

Rumple came to stand before her, and said quietly, "Because your magic is not like everyone else's, my girl. A shifter can take years to master her talent, but once she does, she can do it effortlessly, like breathing. Trying to change forms is one of the hardest things to do, Kris, and you're actually quite advanced for an apprentice shifter, dearie. You've only been having lessons for two months, remember?"

Kristen nodded, her golden curls bouncing as she did so. "I know, but I feel like I'm not . . . making any progress, Papa."

"Nonsense! Look at how you can change most of your arm now, when a few weeks ago you could barely shift your little finger. Don't rush, dearie. There's no timetable for learning to master your power. I'm not in a hurry, and neither should you be. Remember, Ivy, Finn, and Jasmine have been having lessons with me for years, so of course it seems like they can do more than you. Relax, Kris, and do the breathing exercises I've taught you. Then close your eyes and will yourself to shift, but if it doesn't happen right away, don't give up. The most important thing a magic wielder needs is belief and determination. With those you can make your magic do what you will."

She smiled at him uncertainly. "Okay, Papa. I'll try."

He patted her shoulder. "Good! Now concentrate, dearie! I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

Myrnin watched as he spoke gently to June, who was shy and quiet, encouraging her to flicker her light magic and then hold it in one sustained burst, praising her when she did well, and making the little girl give him a rare grin in return.

Then Rumple spoke to Jasmine in unicorn for a few moments and watched her use her power to encourage the rosebush to grow. "Very good! You're coming along nicely, Jasmine."

He stopped by Finn and watched as the young Bard coaxed some wooden animals into racing all over the floor, stopping, and then jumping into the air when he played a lively aria. Rumple nodded as they began to march back and forth in time to a soldier's tune. "Excellent, Finn!"

He visited Ariel next, and complimented her on her scales and the range she could produce, and watched Ivy as she added spices to her dough and kneaded them in, using her powers to enhance specific flavors and even improve the soft texture of the dough. "That smells heavenly, dearie. I almost can't wait to eat it . . . if you're going to bake it, that is."

"I might, Papa. These are all savory herbs and spices I'm using," Ivy replied, her hands working the dough as she spoke, with the ease of long practice.

Myrnin waited until the sorcerer came to him, thinking how different Rum's methods of encouragement were from his other magical tutors, who had always seemed to point out mistakes and yell at him for things gone wrong, making him even more nervous and upset, which in turn made any control he had over his wild magic go out the window. Rumple never raised his voice, spoke in a calm, even tone, and was patient with his students. And his methods got results.

When the master sorcerer came to him, Myrnin looked up at him nervously. "Umm . . . what do you want me to do, sir?"

"First, I need you to relax, lad. No magic wielder controls his power well when he's nervous, and I can see you're expecting me to ask you to cast something and you don't think you'll be able to. So . . . I want you to close your eyes and imagine yourself in a place that you like. I want you to think about how peaceful it is there and slowly start to take deep breaths. As you do that I want you to count, slowly, as you breathe in and out, from one to ten. Keep doing that until I tell you to stop."

"How's that going to help?" asked his new student.

"You'll see. Now do what I told you," Rumple ordered softly.

Myrnin obeyed, thinking this was the strangest magic lesson he'd ever had.

Rumple kept an eye on all his students, helping them when needed, and he left Myrnin doing the basic calming exercises for about fifteen minutes, then he returned to the boy and said, "All right, lad. Open your eyes and listen to me. You know how to conjure light, yes?" He deliberately started with something simple, a thing that even the most inexperienced elementalist could do.

Myrnin nodded. "Of course, sir."

"Show me."

Myrnin held out his hand, and soon a ball of light appeared in it.

"Very nice. Now, can you summon fire?"

Again the boy nodded.

"Change the light into fire for me."

Myrnin did so, easily. Light and fire were among the first things he'd learned as a child.

Then his teacher backed up, until he was standing about five feet away. "Now, throw that at me, Myrnin."

"What? But . . . it's a fireball."

"I know. Throw it to me. You won't hurt me, I can handle fire as well as you. Come on, boy. Throw it to me, like you were throwing a ball."

Myrnin did so, a bit hesitantly.

Rumple caught the ball of fire easily, cupping it in his hand. "Ready? Now you catch it." He tossed the fireball back at his apprentice.

Myrnin did so, a little awkwardly. "Now what?"

"Throw it back. We're going to have a little game of catch," his teacher answered.

"A game?" Myrnin repeated. His other tutors had never been like this. But he shrugged and threw the fireball back at Rumple.

For a few minutes, they just tossed the fireball back and forth, but then Rumple conjured another one and then they threw two of them at each other. Myrnin soon realized that the older sorcerer was testing his reactions and reflexes, and how long he could keep the two fireballs alight, but in a most unorthodox manner.

Myrnin soon realized that he wasn't struggling to concentrate as he usually did. He was relaxed and the exercise was repetitive, but also fun. He could never recall his magic lessons being so before. Usually they were full of lectures and made his head hurt.

"Very good, Myrnin!" Rumple praised. "How do you feel?"

"I . . . I feel okay, sir."

"Do you know how to call up a shield spell?"

"Yes. I learned that when I was eleven."

"Good. I want you to shield yourself and I'm going to toss fireballs at you. As soon as you feel your control over the spell start to waver or you get tired, you tell me and I'll stop. Ready?"

"Yes, sir," Myrnin concentrated and a blue magical shield appeared about him.

Rumple didn't bother to conjure more fireballs then, he simply threw the ones he had in his hands at the boy. Hard.

They slammed against the shield Myrnin held and fizzled like eggs on a hot griddle.

In the blink of an eye, Rumple had more fireballs in his hand and threw them in rapid succession at the shield held before him.

He varied the speed which he threw the fireballs, from slow to streaks of light, and also the size, from ones small as robin eggs to ones as large as the palm of his hand. He could have made them even larger, but knew that they could burn his other children if he wasn't careful, so he kept them small.

He threw about twenty-six of them at Myrnin's blue shield before he saw it start to flicker and fade, and he said, "Are you tired yet, lad?"

"A . . . a little, Master Gold."

"All right. Now drop it. You did well for a first session. You held that shield for over ten minutes, an excellent job. We'll practice some more tomorrow."

Myrnin blinked. "How long have we . . . been doing this?"

"About an hour, and that's plenty for now. I don't want you to drain yourself dry and pass out, Belle would have my head on a stake."

He clapped his hands and the rest of his children ceased what they were doing. "All right, children, lessons are done for today. Now go and get something to eat and rest if you need to."

He then went and unlocked the door to the workroom, then stood aside and let the children precede him out. He usually held lessons from an hour to and hour-and-a-half , based on the age of his student and the difficulty of the exercises he'd set. He monitored their energy levels carefully and never pushed them far enough to get truly exhausted.

Myrnin discovered he was more tired than he thought, and also hungry. He walked beside Ivy as they ascended the stairs to the first floor of the castle and said, "All of a sudden I'm starving."

"Me too. Papa says that's normal when you work magic for a while. It's like running around or riding or something. It burns off energy and makes you sleepy and hungry. That's why he always makes us eat and rest after lessons."

"I'm always hungry after lessons," said June softly.

"So am I," agreed Finn. "Papa says the longer the session the more you need to eat and rest afterwards, otherwise the magic will knock you flat on your ass and make you pay for not taking care of yourself properly."

Myrnin nodded, recalling several times when it had done just as Finn described to him, because his teachers had pushed him to learn a new spell for too long. Once he'd had a splitting headache for days and could barely get out of bed. His father had scolded him for allowing his magic to run wild, even though Myrnin had done his best to control it. Then again, his father had always blamed him for everything.

They went into the kitchen, where Belle had made up some thick sandwiches of cold chicken and ham with tomatoes, lettuce, and mustard. There was also some peaches, grapes, and apples as well as thick slices of pound cake. There was fruit juice to drink or coffee.

Myrnin sat down next to Ivy and ate two sandwiches, saying, "That was the most fun I've ever had learning magic."

Ivy nodded. "I saw you playing catch with Papa. He always says that learning should be interesting as well as informative and he tries to make our magic lessons both."

"I like it. It's better than how my other tutors went about it," Myrnin said. "I actually managed to control my shield spell longer than I ever have. And my head doesn't feel like an overripe melon afterwards."

Then he ate a piece of fruit, thinking he was lucky to have Rumplestitlskin as his teacher now. Maybe he could finally learn to control his wayward powers and surprise his father when he returned home. If he still had a home to return to.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It was nearly the third month of Belle's pregnancy, and normally by now some of the more annoying symptoms, like the migraines and morning sickness, had started to slack off. But for some reason, this pregnancy wasn't like the others. She felt drained and tired every morning, and sometimes her morning sickness was so acute she couldn't keep anything down except crackers, water, or ginger tea for half a day. Sometimes she was cranky and moody because she hated being sick and feeling so helpless.

Rumple did his best to be supportive, even when she snapped at him for hovering. "Don't be an overprotective pain in the ass, Rum! I'm not an invalid!" she'd scold when he asked her for the third time if she wanted something to drink or needed him to massage her head or make her some chamomile tea to soothe her aching stomach.

Later she would apologize for her temper, and ask him to forgive her for her nasty moods. He always did, though sometimes she said to him, "You know, you can tell me off if you want, I won't curl up and die if you do, I know I can be a bitch when I'm sick like this."

"I've heard worse from, Milah, sweetheart. You're nothing near the bitch she was, trust me. At least you have a reason for it. I don't even pretend to know why she acted like that half the time. Besides, I don't want to quarrel with you. I had enough of that to last me a lifetime with Milah."

"Gods, you're better than I deserve, Rum," she told him honestly. And she tried not to take out her bad moods on him or the children.

But a part of her was worried, though she wouldn't tell Rumple that and make him nervous. She had never had her body react in such a fashion when she was pregnant before, and she knew that for some reason this pregnancy was draining her of strength more than her others had.

That morning she woke feeling more tired and sick than usual. She spent five minutes battling her queasy stomach before giving up and going to throw up. Rumple woke and found her half-curled up in a corner of the bathroom, exhausted from dry heaves.

"Belle, why didn't you call me?" he asked as he gently helped her up.

"Why, so you could watch me puke my guts up?" she asked irritably. She leaned on him, feeling dizzy. "Rum, I . . . I'm so tired of . . . getting sick . . ."

"I know, sweetheart. I wish I could do something for you." He put an arm around her waist, which was only slightly thickened, and helped her back to bed. "Here, drink some water." He held a glass of water to her lips.

She turned her head away. "No. You want me to throw it up all over you?"

"It's not like that hasn't happened before, dearie. Come now, I'm no Healer but even I know you need to drink after you've been throwing up for an hour or whatever. Take small sips, sweetie."

Scowling, she did as he told her. "I _hate_ this."

"I don't blame you. I would too," he said. "Why don't you try to rest for a bit? I'll take care of breakfast this morning. Do you want a cool cloth for your head?"

She nodded wearily. "Rum, why don't you ever just tell me I'm a pain in the ass?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Would it make you feel better if I did?"

"It'd make you feel better, I bet."

He smirked. "Fine. You're a pain in the ass, Belle. But I still love you. Now drink some more water."

She drank a few more sips, then pushed the glass away. "No more, Rumple. My stomach's doing flipflops as it is."

He gazed at her worriedly. "Do you need a bowl?"

"No. Just . . . some sleep, I guess."

"All right. You sleep and I'll come check on you in half-an-hour." He cupped her cheek in his hand. "If you need me, just call." He kissed her gently on the forehead and left a bowl on the nightstand just in case.

Belle shut her eyes and tried to think soothing thoughts, anything to keep her queasy stomach from rebelling again. She put her hand on her stomach and said, "Baby, if you're this much trouble now, I hope you'll be sweet as pie after you're born, otherwise gods help us all." She began reciting healing herbs in her head, and inbetween them thinking of names for the baby, which was something she had to discuss soon with her husband.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

When Rumple had finished getting breakfast, with help from Ivy, Aurora, and Elaina, he returned to check up on his wife, carrying some tea on a tray for her. But he found her asleep, and he left the tea for her on the table, gently stroking her dark hair spread out on the pillow.

"Belle, my sweet Belle. I wish I could take this damn sickness from you. I feel so damn guilty, even though I know you want this baby as much as I do."

He turned away, sighing.

"Don't."

He turned back, and saw that her eyes were open. "Did you say something, love?"

"I said . . . don't. Don't you dare feel guilty because I'm sick. Sometimes this happens, and it's no one's fault, Rum."

"It takes two to tango, dearie," he reminded her.

"And you didn't force me to do anything I didn't want you to," she told him. "I'll get through this . . . but if you start blaming yourself, I'm going to beat you over the head with your cane, Rumplestiltskin, I swear it!"

"My feisty Healer," he chuckled. "I love you more than my life and it kills me to see you suffering. I'm this supposed great magician and I can't help my own wife. I never knew that being pregnant was so hard on a woman. It never seemed like that when Milah was having Ivy."

"She was younger than I am, and every woman and every pregnancy is different, Rum. This one is playing havoc with me, but I just have to grit my teeth and bear it. I have only six more months to go. Thank you for being so patient with me, Rum. Healers make terrible patients, I know."

"Not as bad as sorcerers," he returned. "Get some rest, love. Sleep is the best medicine."

She yawned. "_You're _the best medicine, beloved. Good night." She reached out her hand for him.

He clasped it gently, staying that way until her breathing had deepened and she had fallen asleep. Then he left, closing the door behind him softly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In his concern over Belle, Rumple wasn't as observant or watchful as he normally was that day. He shortened his lessons with all the children and told them to go play while he went upstairs and sat with his wife, sitting on the side of the bed and watching her while she slept, wishing his magic could take away all the trouble she was having.

He thought of how Belle thought she was so terrible for snapping at him occasionally, when he had endured weeks of Milah's tirades. She had been healthy as a horse compared to Belle when she was pregnant with Ivy, and yet she had managed to belittle and snarl at him every chance she got, calling him a worthless coward and a pathetic excuse for a husband, and every swear word in the book.

He recalled that cramped dark cottage, where he spun every day to put food on the table, and even at times gave her half his portion, but yet it was never enough to win even the slightest regard from her. She had remained bitter and angry at him, and anything he said seemed to cause her to ignite, and then that was it. He recalled once she had thrown a bobbin at him in a temper, almost knocking him out, and had never apologized for any of it.

Belle's little spats were nothing compared to Milah's, he thought as he silently rubbed her back as she slept. Milah had always made him feel lower than a worm, but Belle, even when she scolded him, made him smile, for he knew her scowls hid a generous loving heart, and she would never make him feel worthless, his pride in tatters. Loving Milah had been a chore, but loving Belle was like loving his children, it warmed him from the inside out and made him feel thrice blessed.

_You are the light in the darkness, beloved, showing me the way out of the shadows. And I will love you till my last breath and beyond._

As he caressed her, listening to the soft hush of her breathing, he heard shrieks of laughter and a rather loud thump coming from the hallway. Belle stirred uneasily, and he whispered, "Shh, sweetheart. Sleep. I'm here and nothing will ever hurt you so long as I am."

She settled then, not waking, and he rose and slipped from the room like a cat, to see what had made that blasted noise.

He heard giggling and laughter and went in the direction of the stairs. When he reached the top he saw Phillip and Pinocchio, one was riding Rajah and the other was riding Baron, and both were bare from the waist up, and painted with odd zigzag lines, stripes and spots in different bright colors. They were wearing feathered headbands and carrying what looked like the long poles that the girls used to wash clothes, and trying to poke each other like jousting knights while yelling war cries like a pack of mercenaries.

"Boys! Quiet!" he called down the stairs, his voice sharp. "Lady Gold is asleep and if you wake her with all your yelling and banging you'll be in serious trouble, am I understood?"

Phillip glanced back at him, and said, "Sorry, Papa. We're playing Painted Warriors, like in Jasmine's story with the cannibals and the jungle people."

"Well, go and play whatever it is outside," Rumple ordered.

Pinocchio immediately turned Baron and Phillip clicked to Rajah and they thundered outside, waving their lances over their heads as they did so.

Rumple thought no more of it until Elaina came back with Rafe after going for a walk and discovered the mess in her room. By that time Belle was awake again, and her husband was downstairs, fixing a tray of soup, fruit, and some bread to bring to her.

As he started to float the tray upstairs, Elaina came storming out of her room, her face like a thunder cloud and snapped, "Where are those—those wretched brats, Papa? I'm going to skin them!"

Rumple paused and then said, "What's wrong, Elaina?"

"They've . . . they've ruined all my make-up! I found it all almost gone and the rest of it on the floor. Oh, I've a good mind to strangle them!"

Rumple groaned. He knew exactly who Elaina was talking about. He thought back to a few hours earlier and how he'd seen Phillip and Pinocchio playing . . . and covered in what he'd assumed had been mere paint . . . but had actually been Elaina's make-up. "Ah . . . one moment, dearie. Just let me take this in to your mother and I'll deal with it."

Elaina glared past him. "Oh, when I catch those scamps . . .!"

He climbed the rest of the stairs, and shoved the tray into Elaina's hands. "Here. You bring this to your mom, and let me handle those two. I don't want you to commit murder."

Flipping her long hair over her opposite shoulder, his eldest daughter took the tray and went towards his bedroom. Rumple limped down the hall to check the damage, gritting his teeth. This was all he needed today.

Once he'd seen what the boys had done, he stalked back downstairs and called them inside.

Still covered in their "war paint", the two mischief makers came to him. Neither of them seemed to realize they were in trouble till Pinocchio saw the disapproval on his face, then he said, "Master Gold, what's . . . umm . . . the matter?"

"Come with me, boys," he ordered, leading them into his study and closing the door.

Then he turned to Phillip, who now looked very uneasy, and said, "Phillip, where did you get the paint you've got on?"

The little boy squirmed under his gaze, finally stammering, "Umm . . . we borrowed some of . . . of Elaina's make-up, Papa. Just a little. We needed something to . . . to make us into Painted Warriors."

Rumple crossed his arms over his chest. "So, instead of asking me, you decided to just go into your sister's room and touch her things without permission? Not only did you make a huge mess, you ruined all of her make-up."

Phillip's lower lip quivered. "We didn't mean to, Papa. It was Pinocchio's idea."

Pinocchio sniffled. "I just . . . thought we could use some . . . it's like what my papa uses to paint the faces on his puppets . . ."

Rumple's lips twitched as he fought to keep from laughing. It wasn't funny, really, but the two looked just like refugees from an acting troupe. _Mischief squared_, he thought, then he frowned and said sternly, "Phillip, you know better than to touch things that don't belong to you. I'm very disappointed in you—both of you."

At that, both little scamps started crying.

"I'm sorry!" his son wailed. "I just wanted a little."

"P-Please, Master Gold, don't tell my papa," Pinocchio sobbed. Tears were now mixing with the make-up on his face, making it run.

"Why not? Don't you think he should know how you've behaved, young man?" asked the sorcerer.

"P-please, sir? If—if he knows what I did . . . he'll never let me come here again," the child whimpered. "You-you can do anything you want to me . . . just don't tell!"

Rumple hadn't thought of that when he'd considered telling Geppetto, and he soon realized that despite what he'd gotten into, Pinocchio was good for Phillip to play with. Unless they happened to be playing Painted Warriors, he amended. He made a swift decision, saying, "Very well, young man. I'll make a deal with you. I won't inform your father how naughty you've been . . . as long as you agree to the exact same punishment as my son for your misbehavior."

Pinocchio gulped, then nodded, "I will, Master Gold." Then he started sniffling again.

Rumple nodded once. "Then we have a deal. Your punishment is as follows—first, you're going to apologize to Elaina for what you've done and promise to never do it again. What you did was very wrong, boys. Two, after that you're going to come straight back here and stick your noses in a corner for eight minutes to think about what you've done. Three, both of you—since you're staying for supper, Pinocchio—will have no dessert tonight and help Elaina wash the dishes. And four, you'll both have baths as well." That last wasn't really a punishment, except for two little boys who preferred to avoid getting baths as much as they could.

"No, Papa!" Phillip whined. "Not another bath! We're supposed to be warriors with magic paint and scare all the cannibals."

"Never you mind, Phillip Gold. Come with me."

After they had apologized to Elaina, who still looked as if she wanted to strangle them, and had been scolded by Belle also, who had to bite her lip to keep from chuckling at first, Rumple marched them back to the study, sending them to opposite corners of the room with a firm tap on their bottoms.

It didn't hurt half as much as a real spank would have, but both mischief makers howled like he'd lit them on fire and cried almost the whole time they were standing in the corner.

Rumple sat down at his desk and wondered how in the gods' name he had let this happen. Once the eight minutes were up, he said, "Come over here, lads."

The two slunk over to him like whipped puppies.

"Are you ever going to do anything like this again?"

Both boys shook their heads and looked at the floor, ashamed.

"No, Papa."

"No, sir. We're sorry."

"Good." He said, then he hugged them to him. "You're forgiven then. Now let's get that bath over with."

They both groaned at that statement.

"Do we . . . uh get to play in the tub?" Phillip queried, looking pathetic with his limp feather now falling in his eyes, over his face, which had streaks of red, blue, and black make-up running down it.

"Absolutely not. You're still in trouble," Rum pointed out.

"Aww, that sucks! I wanted to have a sea battle with the squid with Pinocchio."

"Next time don't touch your sister's things and maybe you can do that," his exasperated father sighed, leading both boys down the hall to the blue bathroom.

On the way there they ran into Jack, Finn, Tom, and Nick, who started snickering and laughing, and Jack cried, "What happened to you two? You look like you've been in a fight with a rainbow."

"Yeah, and the rainbow won," Tom said, then cracked up.

"Maybe they were playing dress up with Clary and June," suggested Finn, also laughing.

"And they were models!" Nick hooted. "You look real pretty, girls!"

Phillip went red. "We're not girls! We're warriors!"

Rumple herded them into the bathroom, then started to run the water, thinking the two imps would probably remember the teasing of the older boys better than his own punishment. And now he owed Elaina some money to replace her make-up.

_Ah well, there's never a dull moment around here, _he thought, then commenced to scrub the make-up off with a large sea sponge while his son and friend squirmed like eels and whined it was scratchy.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Elaina made sure to give each child a large pot to scrub after dinner, while the rest of the family had some delicious peach crumb pie and ice cream in the dining room. She was still a bit angry, though Rum's promise to buy her some more make-up and a hair barette soothed her prickly temper, as had Rafe's promise to get her a cider float at the Goose when they went walking the next night.

As she watched the two small boys washing, there came a sudden ring at the door.

"Who's that?" asked Phillp.

"Never mind who's that. You stay here and finish scrubbing," Elaina directed. "_I'll_ see who it is."

"Maybe it's my papa," Pinocchio considered.

Elaina went and opened the double doors. "Good evening, this is the Gold residence, how may I help—oh!" she gasped upon seeing the tall blond-haired elf standing there, dressed in silvery mail with a bow and quiver on his back, a sword tucked under his arm, one feathery brow quirked up over his green slanted eyes. "You're—you're one of the forest folk! Like Myrnin."

"Indeed, my lady. Then he's here? A fair evening to you, I'm Puck, former captain of the Kingsguard, at your service. Might I come in?"


	39. True Name

**39**

**True Name**

Elaina stepped back, letting the elven warrior come into the castle. "Good evening, sir. We were . . . uh . . . just finishing dessert. Please, come this way."

"I would be honored," Puck said, speaking common with a slight lilting accent. He followed the girl, who had the longest hair he'd ever seen, and was nearly as fair as some of the maidens of his own people, into the large dining hall.

There, at a long table, were two adults and an incredible amount of children. Puck had never seen so many children under one roof before, for his own people had one or two at the most per family, and for a moment, he had to blink his eyes to assure that he had counted correctly.

"Papa, Mama, this elven warrior came to the door. He says his name is—" Elaina began, trying to introduce their unexpected visitor to her parents.

"Puck! Skyseekers!" Myrnin cried, his voice suddenly breaking as he saw the one person he'd never thought he'd see again in this lifetime. "Puck! _A'tha erenin va?_" (Is it really you?) he cried in elven. Then he jumped out of his chair and embraced the tall warrior, his eyes glinting with unshed tears.

Puck hugged him back, his own eyes wet. "Thank the gods of the wood, you're safe, my prince!" he said in common, his voice gone hoarse with relief. "I've been looking all over for you."

Ivy gaped at the two friends that had been unexpectedly reunited. "Prince?" she repeated in shock. "You're a _prince_, Myrnin?"

Myrnin felt himself flush at her faintly reproving tone and he drew away from Puck and turned to face the Golds. "Ivy, you see, I just . . ."

As he fumbled for words, Puck looked from his charge to the girl sitting on a chair staring at Myrnin and said, "Can this be true? You didn't tell them who you are?"

"I didn't want them to know, Puck!" Myrnin sighed.

"Who is he?" Ivy asked softly.

Puck suddenly took the sword he'd been holding beneath his arm and balanced it neatly on his palms. Then he got down on one knee and said formally, "Your sword, I return it to you, Prince Merlin Emrys Valerion Stormshadow, second son of King Ambrosius Oberon of the _il'Shennara_."

Myrnin blanched and took a step backwards, shaking his head. "No! Puck, stop it! Get up! You know I hate it when you do this. I might be a king's son, but I hate how everyone thinks they have to bow and scrape to me because of it. Get up, damn it!" He snatched the sword from the other's hands and gripped it in white knuckled fists. He looked over at Ivy, and said apologetically, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth sooner, but . . . I liked being just plain Myrnin for once, and not . . . not Prince Merlin son of Ambrosius. I'm not really much of a prince anyhow, being a half-blood by the king's second marriage to a human enchantress." He looked at Puck, still kneeling on the floor. "Okay, Puck, you can quit the grand gesture and get up now. Everyone, this is Puck, the captain of the Kingsguard. He's also my cousin and my best friend."

Puck rose to his feet gracefully. "Former captain, my prince," he corrected gently.

Myrnin frowned. "Don't call me that, you know I hate it. I'm Myrnin still. And what do you mean, _former_ captain? Did Father—?"

"No. I demoted myself. In times of war, you know that the captain of the Kingsguard must not leave the king's side. And I trusted no one else to go and look for you but me. So . . . I resigned."

"Puck, are you crazy?" Myrnin cried.

"Not at the moment, now that I've found you. Though I nearly was for weeks, fearing that you had died after you cast that escape spell. I almost went out of my mind, you impulsive young idiot!" the older elf scolded, giving his charge a slight smack on the back of the head and then hugging him again. "Ai, you imp, you're going to make my hair white as snow before I'm two hundred."

Myrnin blushed, but allowed Puck to hug him again, and was only slightly embarrassed. After living for over a month with the Golds, he'd become used to emotional displays of affection, and having Puck come back from the dead was like a miracle.

Once she got over the shock that her new boyfriend was a prince, Ivy said, "Is Myrnin your real name?"

Myrnin looked at her. "Yes, after a fashion. It's a nickname. Arion gave it to me. My brother was only three when I was born and he couldn't pronounce my name right. He called me Myrnin . . . and well, it stuck, though only close friends and family call me that. But it's the name I prefer to be called."

Puck smiled then. "He's always been stubborn."

"Look who's talking," Myrnin snorted. He turned to Rumple and Belle, and said, "Archmagus Rumplestiltskin Gold and Lady Belle Avonlea Gold, may I present my liegeman Puck Silversword, also known as—"

"—Robin Goodfellow!" Rumple exclaimed. "You _are_ the same elf I knew when I was a boy lost in the woods, aren't you?"

"Yes, I sometimes go by that name among humans," Puck replied, his green eyes gleaming. "And you—little Rumplestiltskin—all grown up! I almost didn't recognize you, it's been such a long time . . . and you humans change so much." he bowed to the magician and his lady. "Well met again!"

Rumple stood, smiling, and said, "Welcome to my home, Robin. Or do you prefer to be called Puck?" He held out a hand for Puck to shake.

The elf clasped it warmly. "Either is fine. Puck is what I'm known as among my people."

"Rum, then you two know each other?" Belle said, staring at them.

Puck turned and took her hand in his and bowed over it. "Fair lady, we met by chance when he was a boy of about ten. He and his friend—Jefferson, wasn't it—were trying to trap some rabbits and they had gone too far into the woods and gotten lost. They were wandering about, walking in circles, when I spotted them. In those days, the forest you call the Mystic Wood was much bigger than it is now, and much more dangerous, filled with wild beasts, both magical and not, and lawless brigands and slave traders willing to steal a child and sell it to the highest bidder, as well as dark witches and such. I was patrolling the borders of my kingdom, which was larger than it is now, and I saw them, lost and alone and terrified, though they were trying to be brave and so I decided to show them the way home."

"You never told me that!" Myrnin gaped at his bodyguard.

"I don't tell you everything I know," Puck replied, slanting him an amused glance. "This was years before you were born, anyhow, when I was but a simple ranger and not even serving the king in his household."

"Please, sit down," Rumple invited. "You needn't stand there like some kind of servant, Puck." He snapped his fingers and a goblet of wine appeared before the elf, as well as a dish with some peach crumb pie and ice cream. "Here, have some dessert, my daughter Ivy made it, we have plenty."

"You honor me, Rumplestiltskin. Or do you now prefer Archmagus Gold?" Puck asked, sitting down next to Belle.

"Just call me Rum. Puck, let me introduce you to my children," Rumple said, and pointed them out as he called their names.

All of the children nodded and smiled politely at the tall warrior.

Then Bae said, "Will you tell us how you met Papa, Puck? He hardly ever talks about his childhood."

"Because there's not much to tell, Bae," Rumple answered. "Uncle Jeff and I were in the south end of the Mystic Wood, which bordered our village, and we were trying to hunt up some rabbits for the stew pot. The village had just been through a hard winter, and we were all hungry. Some had some dried vegetables and grain left, but others, like my family, had almost nothing. Mostly because my father was a drunken fool who never could manage to save anything for a rainy day. . ."

Myrnin resumed his seat beside Ivy as the magician began his tale. He clasped her hand under the table and mouthed, "I'm sorry," to her, and gave her a guilty smile.

She poked him in the ribs. "We'll talk about it later," she hissed, then squeezed his hand and turned to listen to Rumple's story.

" . . . so we were trying to snare some rabbits for dinner. We'd placed some snares a little further into the woods than we normally did, and we went to check them. But we could only find two, when we'd set five. And those two were empty. So, despite the fact that we were told not to go too far into the woods, we were so hungry we disobeyed and went in anyway. But we couldn't find our missing snares and by the time we were ready to quit, we were still starving and it was getting dark. And we were so turned around that we couldn't tell which way was home. That was when Puck found us."

"Even though normally _il'Shennara_ don't interact much with humans, I couldn't leave two young children alone in the wood, they'd die before moonrise, or be taken by slavers," Puck continued the tale. "So I stepped out from the trees and introduced myself as Robin Goodfellow, a name I'd coined that helped me conceal my true identity and seem less intimidating to two youngsters. I asked if they were lost and they said yes, once they got over the shock of seeing me there. I spoke passable common, you see, since I often monitored the stretch of forest near human villages, and had picked up their tongue."

"Puck showed us the trail to our village, and made sure nothing ate us or attacked us on our way home. He watched us from the forest's edge until we entered the village and then he disappeared. Jeff's grandmother was waiting for us when we got home, and she almost skinned the both of us. My ears are still ringing from her scolding," Rumple recalled. "But we never told her about the elf who'd helped us, vowing to keep it a secret, since no one would have believed we'd seen one of the elusive Folk of the Wood. I never saw Puck again until today. Who knew we would meet again like this?"

"Indeed, the gods work in mysterious ways," Puck grinned. "How did you meet my ward, Rum?"

"My son Bae and Rennie, Belle's daughter, found him lying on the edge of the wheat field with a deep sword wound in him."

"The _dwarrow_ cut you?" Puck asked, concerned.

Myrnin nodded. "It was just before I used my magic to get out of there. One of them slipped under my guard and knocked my sword from my hand and his blade cut me in the side. I just managed to transport myself away and then I collapsed from shock and blood loss. Lady Belle saved me, Puck. She and Rum both. My wound was poisoned by the blade and I would have died if not for them."

"You have my deepest gratitude then," Puck said solemnly. "As well as that of my king. He was quite concerned over you, Myrnin."

Myrnin raised an eyebrow. "That's a shock. How did _you_ escape, Puck?"

"I used my ranger cloak of invisibility," answered the warrior. "I killed at least five before I pulled on the cloak, once I saw you had escaped. I also grabbed up your sword. When you disappeared, the _dwarrow_ were startled, and I used that to my advantage to sneak off. I managed to find a side passage out of the tunnels, and it took me almost a week to return to Gliringlass, since I was wounded a little as well, in the leg. Luckily I had some _irinia_ on me—ah, you would call it heal-all—it's a plant that heals you from poisons. I put it on my wound and bound it, and it served me until I arrived back at the city and had one of our Healers see to it."

He paused to eat some of the pie and drink some wine.

As he did so, Phillip and Pinocchio came in from the kitchen to see the visitor.

"Are you a real elf?" was the first thing out of Phillip's mouth.

"Indeed, young one. My name is Puck. And who are you two?"

"I'm Phillip and this is my friend, Pinocchio," Phillip said. "Is it true you can see in the dark?"

Puck smirked. "Yes, after a fashion. We can widen our pupils like a cat's, Phillip, and so allow us to see more light than you can."

"Can you disappear in plain sight?" asked Pinocchio.

"In a way. But the only true disappearing we can do is if we have magic, like Rum there."

"But don't all the _il'Shennara_ have magic?" Ivy queried.

"To some extent, yes. But we havesome among us who are born with greater magical gifts than others—Prince Myrnin is one. His father is another, though I believe that Myrnin's gifts eclipse his."

"Don't ever say that in front of him, Puck. He'll throw you out of Gliringlass," Myrnin said.

Puck shook his head. "I've already spoken to him several times about him finding a proper magical tutor for you."

"Why doesn't _he_ teach Myrnin?" asked Finn curiously. "Papa teaches all of us who have magic."

Puck sighed. "The king . . . he considers his people before his family, I'm afraid."

"And Father and I would probably kill each other_," _Myrnin told him. He looked at his friend. "Rumplestiltskin's been giving me lessons, Puck. I've learned more in a few weeks with him than I ever did with the Mage Illyriel and her students."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps that's because you are more willing to listen to him than you were to your other teachers."

Myrnin shook his head. "I always listened to them, Puck. I just didn't always do what they said."

Puck rolled his eyes. "And how is that different from what I said, youngling? You're splitting hairs."

"No. You said I never listened to them. But I did, they just didn't teach the right way. Nothing they told me worked. And somehow it was always my fault I couldn't do something, or my magic went crazy. But in one lesson with Archmagus Gold, I managed to not only keep my shield spell at full strength, but walk out of there without having a killer headache. Because _he_ knows how to teach."

"Our magic affinities are the same," Rumple explained. "Like me, he is an elemental magician, able to manipulate the energies of all five elements, though I am particularly good with fire and spirit. That may be why I've succeeded with him."

"And also that you have more experience with teaching youngsters," Puck mused. "You've managed to gain his trust and respect, a rare thing. Something I fear his father has never done."

"I _used_ to respect him, Puck. Before he made it clear that it didn't matter," Myrnin said softly, a bitter note in his voice. "How did you find me, anyway?"

"I knew where you went every day before the king called you to be his ambassador," replied Puck. "When I couldn't find you within our borders, I decided at last to look here."

"Did my father send you to look for me?"

"He did. As you've probably guessed, we are now at war with the _dwarrow_ due to their breaking of the white arrow. It's why I took so long to search for you. I had to help get the people out of Gliringlass before the night elves came and destroyed it."

"They _destroyed_ Gliringlass?" Myrnin gasped.

"No. The king managed to take it out of time before they reached it. But right now it is . . . beyond our reach. He won't bring it back until the _dwarrow_ are defeated. He couldn't spare me to search for you when I returned . . . until now. We need you to come home, my prince."

"What for?" Myrnin asked sharply. "So he can blame me for the breaking of the treaty?"

Puck's eyes flashed. "That remark was unworthy of you, Your Grace."

Myrnin's jaw tightened. "Come on, Puck. You know perfectly well what he thinks of me. Whose idea was it to look for me—yours or his? I'd wager my sword it was yours. And he just agreed to it to save face."

"When I returned without you, he was quite . . . upset," Puck told him. "But he could not spare me to search, not then. He needed every sword and bow to hand. Our dark kin pressed us harshly at first. And now . . . now he wants you home, Your Grace, to take up your rightful duties as prince of the _il'Shennara_ since Arion cannot, for the time being."

"Why? What's happened to Arion?" Myrnin asked, alarmed.

"He was wounded in a spell battle with one of their necromancers," Puck said heavily. "He was protecting some of our elders when the necromancer attacked. For a while there . . . we feared he wouldn't make it. But he has since rallied, though he is still confined to his bed and very weak."

"But . . . he won't die, will he, Puck?" Myrnin asked quietly.

"No, but your father needs you, Myrnin. You are his last remaining heir, now that Arion is injured. He ordered me to search until I found you and if I found you alive, to bring you home."

Myrnin looked as though he had been struck over the head. He had known that his people were at war, but it had never occurred to him that anything could happen to his elder brother, who had always seemed so invincible to him. But now Arion was hurt . . . and his father needed him to serve in Arion's place. In the back of his mind, the young royal knew there was always a chance he could have been called upon to be his father's heir, but he had never wanted to think of it, because that meant something would have had to happen to Arion. And now . . . something had.

Puck looked from his prince to Ivy and then at the Golds around the table. He could tell that the young half-elf had finally found a place that he belonged. Plus a girl that caught his eye. And now he was being asked to give it all up. Sometimes fate was cruel, the warrior thought sadly. "Myrnin, _avar ilquinar est maith correnan._" (Sometimes duty is heavier than a mountain) Puck said, quoting an old elvish adage.

The boy's hazel eyes flashed. "You think I don't know that?" His hand clenched on the table top. "A prince's life isn't his own. Except . . . it was here." He turned and looked at Ivy. "Damn him! If I had a choice . . . _a'liri_, I'd stay and to hell with what he wants. But I can't." Suddenly he rose to his feet, pulling Ivy with him. "Excuse us for a moment," he said, and then he pulled her into the kitchen.

"Myrnin . . ." Ivy whispered, feeling almost as if her heart was going to shatter.

"Ivy . . . I would never leave you . . . not if it were up to me," he began, taking her face in her hands. "I would stay here forever . . . but I have to go back . . . if only to make sure Arion will make it . . .This is the reason why I didn't tell you I was Prince Merlin . . . because he can't . . . he isn't allowed to be anything other than responsible to his people and his position. And I've always known that . . . and always hated it. When I came to you that night, on midsummer's eve, I was trying for once to be free, to be ordinary . . . and you gave me hope that I could be . . . just Myrnin. Just a simple boy with magic and not my father's son. I'm sorry I deceived you, but I wanted, just once, to have people want me for _me_, not because I was the prince of the _il'Shennara_."

"I always wanted you for that," Ivy said, sniffling sharply. "I didn't know who you were, remember? You were my mystery . . . and I loved you for it. I still do, even now that I know who you really are. That doesn't change anything, Myrnin."

"But it does! Now I have to leave," he protested.

She put her hand over his mouth. "Go then, Myrnin. Do what you need to. I'll be waiting for you. Right here."

"It's not fair, and I wish like hell that I was born to someone else," he began angrily.

"Life's not fair, or so Papa used to say," Ivy whispered, choking on the words. "But it is what it is, Myrnin. And I'll wait for you . . . no matter how long it takes."

"I'll return to you, Ivy. Once Arion is better . . . you'll see me again. He's the one my people need, not me. I _will_ come back. I swear it by all that I am," Myrnin said fiercely. Then he caught her up and kissed her, one long kiss of passion, filled with sorrow and regret and a love that had just begun to blossom.

Then he stepped back. It was only then he noticed there were tears in her eyes . . . because his own were wet also and not seeing as they ought to. "Remember me."

"Always, _a'liri_," she whispered, biting her lip hard.

Suddenly his hands went to his neck and he fumbled for a moment, before removing a silver chain that he wore about his neck. On it was a charm of a hawk, grasping an eternity knot in its talons. "This . . . is my House amulet. It was put about my neck when I was born by my mother. The eternity knot is my House symbol and the hawk . . . is me. That's what my true name means, you know. Hawk."

"I know what a merlin is," she said, her voice quivering. "What are you doing?"

"Giving it to you. So you'll remember my promise." He clasped it around her neck. "No matter how long it takes . . . I will return to you, Ivy Gold. Either as a prince or just a simple sorcerer . . . but I'll come for you."

She clutched it in her hand. "I'll be here, Myrnin." Then she lifted her head, blinking back tears. She refused to let herself cry. Not yet. "Come on. If you have to go . . . let's get it over with."

Together they walked into the dining room again.

As Myrnin bid goodbye to the rest of the family, Puck approached Ivy. His eyes widened when he saw what she wore around her neck. But he said nothing except, "Hawks mate for life, my lady. They may fly away, but they always return . . . someday."

"Then you don't . . . mind?" Ivy stammered.

Puck smiled. "It's not up to me to mind. His father, on the other hand . . well . . . But Myrnin's always gone his own way, no matter how many thorn thickets are in his path. If this were different circumstances . . . but such is life. Merry meet and merry part . . . and merry meet again."

Myrnin saved Belle and Rumple for last when he came to bid them goodbye.

"I can never thank you enough for what you've done . . ." he began awkwardly.

"You don't need to, lad." Rumple said.

"And you are always welcome here, Myrnin," Belle said sincerely, hugging him. "We'll miss you."

"I will too," he said, sniffling sharply. "You've been . . . like the mother I wished I had."

"And you've been like a son to us," Belle said, her blue eyes glistening with tears.

"Belle's right, lad," Rumple said, also hugging him. "If you ever need me, you have only to speak my name three times."

Myrnin allowed the sorcerer to hold him for a few moments, before he said, "I wish things were different, sir. But when I can . . . I'll come back. My father will probably throw a fit . . . but I don't give a damn. You've been . . . more of a father than he ever has."

Rumple patted his back. "Best keep that to yourself, lad. I don't want to have the king of the Folk of the Wood as an enemy."

"You won't. Besides, he'd never match you in a straight duel," Myrnin said, then he wiped his eyes and drew away. "Until we meet again, Rumplestiltskin."

As he turned away, Ivy grabbed his arm. "Wait!" She pressed a small gold ring with carved ivy leaves into his hand. "For you. Papa gave it to me on my thirteenth birthday. Keep it."

He closed his hand about it. "I will. You'll get it back when I return." Then he turned to Puck. "If we're going, Puck, let's do it now."

"Hold it," Bae said. "You're forgetting your sword, Myrnin," he held out the glittering silveron blade.

Myrnin shook his head. "It's yours, Bae. If not for you, I'd have bled out my life in that wheat field."

"You can't . . . this sword . . . it's worth a king's ransom!" Bae gasped.

"Or a prince's," Myrnin said with an ironic chuckle. "Keep it. You'll make better use out of it than I will. I was always a better mage than a swordsman."

"But . . . what will you tell your father?" Bae asked.

"That I lost it . . . if he even asks," Myrnin shrugged. "Anyhow, it's my sword and I can do what I want with it. Oh, and its name is Azariel—that's _Dragonfire_ in elvish."

Bae went and clasped him by the shoulders. "I was wrong about you, Myrnin. You'll make Ivy a good husband. Now get out of here, kid. Before I embarrass myself and start bawling like Clary."

For Clary was crying, holding onto Belle's skirts, as were most of the girls, though they were doing so discreetly.

Myrnin waved and followed Puck to the door, calling over his shoulder, "Hey, I'll be back. Probably when the first snows of winter come. Or something like that."

"Farewell, all!" Puck said, also waving.

Then they were gone, like shadows fleeing the sun.

Ivy watched by the door until she could no longer see them, the pendant digging into her hand. "The hawk may fly away, but he'll always return," she whispered to herself.

Rumple's hand touched her shoulder. "Come away from there, dearie. You don't want to catch cold." He quietly shut the door.

Ivy turned then and threw her arms about him, weeping silently into his tunic. Maybe he would return someday, but he was gone now, and she missed him more than she could put into words.

Rumple just held her, stroking her back, and he prayed that the young half-elf would be able to keep his promise.

**A/N: Hope you all liked! And soon Snow will enter the story!**


	40. Sanctuary

**40**

**Sanctuary**

It had been two and a half months since Jefferson had seen his best friend, Belle, and their brood of children. After sending them the tickets to the circus, and learning about what the conniving Sully had tried to pull on Kristen, Jeff hadn't heard anything from the Golds. Then again, he'd been too busy trying to cope with the workload Regina had suddenly dumped on him to contact Rumplestiltskin on the mirror.

There were things going on in the castle that he didn't like at all. For one thing, Captain Hook and his First Mate, Milah, seemed to be permanent guests there, and Jefferson loathed the captain and his wife like a bout of the plague. It galled him to no end to see Milah so accommodating to her pirate husband, who was no better than scum according to Jeff, when she had been a horrible shrew to Rumple when she had been married to him.

Jeff had been there in the early years of Rumple's marriage to Milah, before his grandmother had passed away when they were nineteen, before Milah had gotten pregnant with Bae and Rumple had been drafted into the duke's army to fight in the Ogre Wars. Rumple had married Milah when he was but seventeen, and convinced she was the girl of his dreams. Jeff had tried to tell him otherwise, when she tried to kiss him behind the tavern the week before she'd spoken her vows to his best friend. But Rumple had been starry-eyed and not seeing clearly then.

He'd only begun to learn about the true Milah after he'd come home from the war, branded a coward, a cripple, and Milah refused to even support him, but had turned into the bitch from hell, harping, criticizing, and screaming at him for nearly everything.

Jeff had been gone by then, though, joining the mercenary company called the Iron Giants, and fighting in several skirmishes for the duke against the ogres and any other kind of fight they'd been hired for. He hadn't found out about Milah leaving and Rumple being on his own for a long time.

Now, seeing his best friend's ex-wife with Hook made him long to drink a bottle of gin and puke his guts up. Then again, Rum was certainly better off with Belle, whom he truly loved and who loved him, than he'd ever been with Milah. And so were Bae and Ivy.

Then too, it wasn't just the Hooked couple that had Jefferson's insides doing backflips. It was Regina as well. Ever since the pirates had come to stay, the Queen of the Enchanted Forest had seemed rather . . . petty and impatient and also colder and harder than Jefferson had ever seen her. She harped constantly at Snow, her stepdaughter, calling her insipid and lazy and making comments about her hair and her clothing.

Jefferson had found the girl in tears, crying in a corner of the stairwell, and when he'd asked her what was wrong, she had told him Regina had said she was a disgrace, that her hair was a disaster and her clothes provincial and no man would ever ask for her hand in marriage unless she comported herself like a true princess should.

"Aww, kid! Don't listen to her," Jeff had tried to make the poor girl smile. "She's just in one of her snits again, and she's nasty as viper with its tail in a knot. Maybe it's her time of the month too, know what I mean?"

Snow had almost smiled at that. "Maybe, Jeff. But . . . I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I . . . I try and try to please her, but no matter what I do she . . . she finds something wrong. I . . . used to like being with her, talking about the latest styles of dresses and shoes and hair, but now . . . now I want to run and hide when I see her coming. Things were never like this when Father was alive."

Jeff had patted her shoulder, like he used to do when she was ten and had come to him crying over a skinned knee. "I know. But sometimes . . . people change when the person they love dies. And not always for the better."

Snow sighed. "Maybe if Regina . . . Mother . . . found someone else to love . . . she would be happier with me."

Jefferson doubted that. Regina had a cold perfect beauty, one that lent itself easily to a man's dark fantasies, but she was the kind of woman who always needed to have the upper hand, to be in charge, or else she'd make your life hell. He thought of how Rumple had described their one and only date and considered his friend lucky to have escaped her clutches.

"You shouldn't worry about Regina so much, Snow. She is what she is. Come on, now why don't you go and have a ride in the park with me? I think your horse Champion's been pining for you, and I know Deuce could use the exercise."

Snow had smiled then, and dried her eyes with one of her handkerchiefs and jumped to her feet. "Oh, Jeff! I always feel better when I'm with you. You're not like the new guards Mother assigned to me. They're all cold and dour, they never smile at me, and they . . . sometimes look like they'd rather skewer me than protect me."

Jefferson frowned. "You be careful with them, Snow. If one of them gets out of line with you, you kick them hard in the jewels and then you come get me, okay?" He hadn't liked the new guards Regina had hired to protect her stepdaughter either. They weren't the usual sort, but reminded Jeff of the kind you could find at any lowdown tavern or the docks, men willing to put on livery and armor for whoever offered them the most pay, men who cared less about who they guarded and more about the money in their pockets, men without honor or decency.

All the men Jeff used to have on his staff when he was Snow's bodyguard had quietly disappeared, replaced by these new men, and Jefferson didn't trust them as far as he could spit.

"Let's not talk about them now, Jeff. I want to . . to enjoy myself for once. I've been so busy with lessons in deportment and philosophy and politics that I feel like I hardly have time to breathe. And Mother . . . she yelled at me right in front of the ministers on her council and her new friends, James Hook and Milah today . . . and I wanted to die, I was so embarrassed. They all . . . looked at me like I was some kind of dolt and Lady Milah laughed and said I was nothing but a silly child."

Jefferson silently cursed Regina's tactlessness. Stepdaughter or not, Snow White was still a princess, and the queen ought to know better than to give a princess royal a dressing down in public like she was some kitchen wench. Even he, the son of a common soldier and a well-to-do merchant's daughter, knew that just wasn't done.

"Okay, princess. Let's go for a nice ride, you and me, like we used to."

"I'd like that, Jeff. I've missed our rides together," Snow said, and she rose to follow him, going to the stables and having the grooms ready her white gelding, Champion, as well as Jeff's horse, Deuce.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

They came back from their ride with Snow flushed and happy and Jefferson as well. He'd been mewed up inside the castle for too long, doing paperwork, and he had forgotten how good it was to get out and feel the fresh air on his face and ride a fast horse. He decided that from now on he would make time each day to leave the palace and exercise with his sword or ride Deuce. Living the life of a courtier, even Regina's advisor, was not all it was cracked up to be, he thought.

His good mood lasted right up until the time they entered the palace and saw Regina waiting for them, dressed in a blood red gown, her hair piled upon her head, a cold gleam in her eyes. "Where have you been, girl?" she snapped at Snow.

Snow lost all the animation and delight she had previously displayed and seemed to shrink in on herself. "I . . . I was out riding a little with Master Hatter, Mother. Why are you angry with me?"

Regina looked at her as if she was some piece of mold found growing on the wall. "It's not your place to question me, child. Your tutor spent over an hour waiting for you and finally I dismissed him because you were nowhere to be found. Do you think I just throw money away and waste my time trying to instill some measure of propriety into your thick skull?"

Snow went almost as white as her name. "Forgive me, Mother, I . . . I wasn't aware that there was a tutor coming today. . . I just thought I had some free time to ride a bit. Champion hasn't been exercised in days . . ."

"That's what the stable boys are there for, Snow White," Regina said bitingly. "You'd know that if you spent more time behaving like a princess ought to, instead of some common brat."

"Whoa now, Your Majesty," Jefferson began, stepping in front of Snow protectively. "Don't take your temper out on her. It was _my_ idea to go riding this afternoon, so if you want to yell at someone, yell at me."

Regina glared at him icily. "You mind your own business, Hatter. The girl needs to accept responsibility for her own actions."

"But she said herself she didn't know . . ." Jefferson said, trying again to diffuse the Queen's temper.

"Of course she'll say that," Regina purred nastily. "Girls like her lie all the time to get out of trouble."

"I'm not lying, Mother!"

Regina sneered at her. "Don't you answer me back, young lady! Now go to your room and stay there until I tell you to come out. No supper save bread and water for you tonight, and you can spend an extra hour at your devotionals and meditate on your disobedience, am I clear?"

"Yes, Mother. I'm sorry," Snow whispered, her head hanging. Then she slipped past Regina like a wraith, going up the grand staircase to her suite of rooms.

"Your Majesty, the princess wasn't lying. I did ask her to come riding, she was upset . . ."

"When I want your opinion, Hatter, I'll ask for it!" Regina snapped. She lifted her hand, and magical power sparked from it. "Now shut up before I decide my garden needs a new statue."

Jefferson swallowed the retort on his lips and bowed. "As Your Majesty wishes."

"Yes. As _I_ wish. Always. You're dismissed, councilor."

Jefferson turned with military smartness and walked away down the west wing, where his quarters were. He wished like hell he could do more to help Snow, but even he knew better than to bait a cobra.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

That night at supper, which consisted of ten courses, and featured a whole peacock roasted in its skin, a creamed haddock, a pate of goose liver, morels of beef, and a frumenty of strawberries, as well as boiled peas, braised carrots, and pearl onions in a butter sauce along with white bread and sweet rolls, Jefferson barely picked at the food.

He was surrounded by his fellow ministers and further up the table, Regina laughed and joked with Hook and Milah, her hand clasped around a crystal wine glass filled to the brim with potent apple wine from her own vineyards.

Jeff wasn't the slightest bit hungry, the company of the courtiers he was forced to keep put him off food entirely. But he managed to secrete a peacock leg and some pieces of beef, a roll, and some carrots in a large napkin to sneak up to Snow. The girl shouldn't have to starve because of Regina's pettiness.

He pushed the rest of the creamed haddock about on his plate and slipped a fig tartlet off a tray and up his sleeve when no one was looking. That was a trick he'd learned from Rum, back when they were boys. Rum had always been good at sleight of hand.

Jefferson took another gulp of his blackberry brandy and hoped the night would end quickly. He wasn't in the mood to make nice with the pack of vipers that Regina called her court tonight. All he wanted was to go back to his suite, get into some comfortable clothes instead of these blasted stiff court dandy breeches and shirt and jacket Regina insisted her advisors dress in and down a flagon of ale and play some cards with the guards on the west wing. But before that he'd slip this food to Snow, since it was partially his fault that she had gotten in trouble.

As the dishes were replaced by the usual comfits and sweets, Jefferson finished his glass of brandy and gazed up at the table, trying to gauge Regina's reaction to him leaving early. The Queen was giggling and smirking at Hook, who was giving her a lascivious grin in return.

Jefferson nearly gagged. The mere thought of Hook, Regina, and Milah together _that_ way almost caused him to heave up what little he'd eaten. Really, since those two arrived, the court had gone downhill and he didn't want to stay for tonight's entertainment, which would probably be some bear baiting and dancing girls or fire eaters. He could find better entertainment in a cheap tavern, he thought scathingly, and rose to his feet.

He made his way out of the hall, acting like he needed to find the necessary, then made a swift right and went up the stairs. He went to his suite, wrote a quick note and slipped it into the napkin with the food, then went over to the east side and past the guards on duty for the royal wing.

They nodded at him as he went down the passage to Snow's room. The guards on duty at her door were almost snoozing, and Jefferson longed to belt them upside the head for being such lazy slobs, but he didn't. Instead he slipped past them and opened the door just a crack and put the napkin inside.

Then he left as quickly as he'd come. No sense in pissing off Regina even more.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Snow heard the slight click of her door opening and shutting, but didn't dare get up from her devotionals, kneeling on the cold stone floor before the altar of the gods of winter, who were Regina's favorite of the pantheon they worshipped. Finally, when she had determined that her stepmother was not lurking behind her, ready to catch her out again, the girl rose to her feet and walked stealthily towards the door of her suite, her bare feet making no sound across the carpeted floor.

She felt her stomach growl as did so, for she had eaten nothing since breakfast, having been too busy to grab a snack from the kitchens as she normally did in the afternoon and then she had run into Regina and her friends and been scolded like a misbehaving puppy. The meager piece of stale bread and lukewarm water she'd been given by a surly maid that evening had done little to take the edge off her hunger and she was suddenly starving.

The small parcel beside the door caught her eye and she knelt and quickly stuffed it under her nightdress. Sometimes she felt as if the Queen had eyes everywhere, even here, in her private rooms. She pulled a quilt from her armoire and quickly covered the mirror over her dresser. She had heard rumors that Regina spied on people using her mirror, and Snow was afraid they were true. So she was taking no chances.

When she was sure no prying eyes could see, Snow went to her bed and pulled the hangings almost closed. There, safe in her cozy bed, she removed the parcel from beneath her nightgown and opened it. She gasped at the feast revealed there, along with a small note.

_Snow,_

_Here's some food to tide you over till breakfast tomorrow. My apologies for getting you in trouble with Regina._

_Jeff_

Snow grinned and dug into the cold peacock and the other food Jeff had provided. Dear sweet Jefferson! She had always looked up to him as a child and was grateful he had chosen to stay on at court when her father had died. At least she had one ally here, now that Regina seemed bent on making her every waking moment a kind of hell.

If only she could figure out why her stepmother had changed so towards her these last months. But she had no clue why Regina had done so, and feared that before she could do so, the Queen would lose her fiery temper with her and curse her, the way she seemed to do with anyone foolish enough to cross her.

Snow happily ate the rest of the food, leaving not even crumbs for the maids to find. At least she would go to bed with a full stomach tonight. She would worry about Regina tomorrow.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Jefferson rubbed bleary eyes and struggled to stay awake as he cast the dice yet again. He'd gotten involved in a game of dice in the guardroom off the east wing after delivering his little surprise to Snow and now it was almost one o'clock in the morning and he was starting to feel tired. He must be getting old, because he could recall being able to stay up till five at least when he was five years younger. Unless his new life as Regina's advisor was making him soft.

"Five and six. That beats your pair of fours, Skerrin," he announced to the young guard still playing.

"Aw, hells, Hatter. Looks like you win again," said the soldier. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd witched the dice."

"Better luck next time, boy," Jefferson said, and swept his winnings, about ten gold sovereigns, into his black hat. "And now, I have to get up and be in a council meeting by ten tomorrow, so I'll bid you all goodnight."

He exited the guardroom, his hat tucked in one arm. He rarely went anywhere without it, the hat was too dangerous to leave lying about, especially in the palace.

He had acquired the hat several years ago, back when he was still a lieutenant in the Silver Swords, one of the premier merc companies in seven kingdoms. It had been among a horde of gold, jewels, and other magical items in a wyvern's lair that he and his company had been hired to dispatch by King George. King George had said that he would give the company a fifth of any treasure they found in the wyvern's lair if they could destroy the beast, who had been ravaging his peasants' crops and villages, killing and eating anyone or anything it came across.

It had taken Jefferson, his captain Robin Hart, and several other members quite a time to locate the beast and then to kill it. When they found the lair, Jeff allowed most of his men to pick their share first. When his turn came, he had entered the lair and picked up a few handsome jewels and necklaces he could sell for some ready cash and the hat . . . which looked like an ordinary black top hat, but Jefferson couldn't fathom why a wyvern, who was usually attracted to things of magic, had a hat in its horde. So he'd taken it, and figured next time he was down near Valley Way, he could show it to Rumple and see what the sorcerer made of it.

Rumple had told him that the hat was magical, a powerful object that could perform dimensional travel, opening doorways between one world and the next, and allowing at least one person to travel through them. Of course, there always had to be the same number of people leaving a dimension as entering it, and sometimes the traveling could be dangerous, depending on what world the hat opened up. Jefferson had used the hat a scant ten times since acquiring it, and was always careful where he put it. Rumple had taught him how to use the hat, but Jefferson was wary of it.

Once he had opened a gateway to Wonderland with it, and had almost lost his head to the Queen of Hearts, the evil sorceress known as Cora Miller, who had wanted him to give her the hat, and when he had refused, had tried to chop off his head. He had escaped in the nick of time. Not long after that, the Queen of Hearts had decided to invade his realm in order to gain more magical objects, but her army of card soldiers had been driven back into Wonderland by Captain Alice and her mercenary company called the Card Captors. Cora had fled in defeat and Jeff had been free of her foul presence.

Patting the hat gently, Jeff continued on towards his suite, figuring he could pass out there, he was so damn tired.

As he rounded a corner, he heard the quiet echo of Regina's laughter and footsteps. Not wishing to encounter the monarch at this hour, Jeff went and hid behind a tapestry of an apple orchard, hoping Regina and whoever she was entertaining tonight were too busy to spot him.

"Are you sure you can do it?" Regina was saying in a lazy tone, sounding bored.

"But of course, Your Majesty," answered a man's deeper voice. "I've been hunting creatures since I was nine, I can kill anything on four legs. Or two if given the right provocation."

Jeff heard Regina laugh then, and the sound sent chills down his spine. "Or a king's ransom in gold."

"Hey, nothing's ever free. But then, you knew that when you hired me, Your Majesty. That I came with a high price."

"Yes, yes. You'll get your gold when the job's done. And it better be done right. Do you have any qualms about it?"

"No. One quick stab and her heart stops beating. It's the same as if you killed a deer."

Jefferson felt his blood run cold. They were plotting to murder someone. But who?

"Remember, I want it to look like a wild beast came and attacked. But you're to bring me the heart afterwards. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The heart is yours. It shouldn't be too hard. Not if she's where you said she always is."

"I'll make sure of it, blade. For long nights I've dreamed of this moment, the moment I can have my revenge," Regina said cruelly. "Then I can rule without worrying about what will happen when I die. I can choose my own successor rather than that milksop Snow White!"

The masculine voice chuckled, and Jeff peered out from behind the tapestry and saw Regina walking, arm in arm, with a tall man wearing all black and his face was a mask of icy coldness. Jefferson almost coughed when he saw him. The man was a member of an old order of assassins called the Black Brotherhood. Very adept at their craft and they always got their mark.

But the question remained, who was going to be killed?

He flattened himself against the wall and wished suddenly he could disappear.

"Yes, my queen. It shall be done," the assassin assured her.

"Good. Here. Perhaps this will help," she handed the man a piece of parchment. "It's a schedule." Then they paused.

Jefferson froze, not daring to breathe as they stood, barely a foot and a half away.

Regina was looking up at the man now, wearing a flirtatious grin. "But . . . you can think about that tomorrow. Tell me, blade, who is the fairest one of all?"

The assassin smiled down at her, his cold eyes suddenly taking on a lustful gleam. "Why, you are, my queen. As fair as the first stars of summer."

"And is there none to match me?"

"None, Regina."

"Not even the one they call . . . Snow White?"

The assassin shook his head. "Not even she is as fair."

Regina's hand tightened upon the muscular arm. "That's what I like to hear. Do your work well, and there shall be an . . . unexpected reward in it for you." Then she grabbed his head and pulled it down to her, kissing him hard. After a moment, she drew away. "Remember that."

"I shall, lovely one. Do not worry. I am a Black Dagger, and I always get my target."

"I know. It's why I chose you." Abruptly she turned and started walking down the corridor again, her small heels tapping. "The night is young. Let us celebrate."

"Of course," and there was a note of imminent satisfaction there that made Jefferson want to vomit.

His eyes shifted from the playful pair of lovers to the paper dangling in the Black Brother's hand. It was turned partially towards him, and he could just make out a name, written in Regina's flowing script, at the top.

_Snow White._

His guts clenched hard. Now everything made sense.

The Black Brother smirked and followed after the Queen of the Enchanted Forest like a pull toy, the schedule in his hand dangling.

Jefferson waited interminable moments for them to enter the east wing, and even longer until he heard the opening and shutting of a door before he moved from behind the tapestry. He was bathed in sweat, but he didn't pause to do more than stride off towards his suite, his mind calculating what he needed to take with him when he fled. Not much, just what would fit in a small pack on Deuce, for the horse would be carrying double and need to be able to fit into the hat along with himself and Snow.

But one thing he did know. They were getting out of here tonight.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Snow woke to a hand covering her mouth. For a few seconds she froze, and then she started to thrash about, her hand groping for the small eating knife she kept under her pillow. But before she could bring it up and cut the hand holding her, a familiar voice whispered, "Easy, princess. It's me, Jefferson. Sorry to wake you like this, but you need to come with me. Immediately."

Snow's eyes widened. Then the hand was removed from her mouth and she sat up. "Jeff? What's going on? It's the middle of the night."

"I know. I'll explain everything later. Now get dressed quick. Pack two changes of clothes and anything personal that can fit into a small knapsack."

"Why? Are we going somewhere?"

"Yes. Somewhere away from here. Trust me. Now move!"

Snow scrambled from the bed and Jefferson turned his back as she dressed quickly in a pair of leather breeches, a cotton shirt, and a gray tunic, throwing a black cloak over the whole thing and pulling on her good boots. She fastened her knife at her belt, along with a longer hunting dagger and quickly stuffed some extra clothes and another pair of shoes, her brush, and a brooch and a ring given to her by her father into a pack.

"Okay. I'm ready."

Jeff turned around. "Follow me."

They slipped off down the corridor, leaving her guards asleep, as they had been since midnight. Jefferson didn't speak again until they had reached the royal stables. "Wait here. I'm going to saddle Deuce."

Snow did so, shivering slightly in the chill air, her hands buried in her good velvet lined cloak.

In a few moments, Jeff returned with Deuce and boosted her into the saddle. Then he sprang on behind her and put his heels to the big horse.

Deuce sprang away and they raced off through the courtyard and into the park beyond. When they had gone far enough away that Snow couldn't see the twinkling palace lights, Jeff halted and dismounted. He took off his black top hat and placed it on the ground.

Then he spun it three times and suddenly the hat began to shimmer and the inside of it turned an odd shade of purple and it began to revolve.

Jefferson climbed back on the horse and clucked to him.

"Hold on tight," he warned, and then he set the horse at the revolving hat.

Deuce snorted and jumped . . . right into the center of the swirling vortex, which expanded magically as he did so, and then they and the hat vanished.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

They emerged into the middle of a featureless stone hall with dozens of doors on either side.

"Where are we?" Snow panted.

"In a place between worlds, right now. I had to come here before I talked to you, it's the only place safe for us."

"Why? What's happened? Are we under attack?"

"No. Not like you mean. The one in danger is you, Snow."

"Jeff, you're frightening me."

"Good, you should be scared, kid. Listen carefully."

He told her, quickly and concisely, about the conversation he'd overheard and what it meant.

Snow almost tumbled off Deuce's back. "She—Mother wants me dead? But why?"

"Don't call her that. She's not your mother. Would a real mother do that to her child?" asked Jefferson bluntly.

"No. But . . . what did I ever do to make her want to . . kill me?"

"Regina's a crazy bitch, kid. Don't waste your time wondering how her mind works. By tomorrow's dawn, once she discovers you're missing, she'll have the place crawling with her guards, and that Black Brother too. Once she puts two and two together and finds I'm gone too, they'll be looking for me as well. That's why I had to get you away tonight, princess."

Snow was trembling, her hands clutching the pommel of the saddle. "But where can we go?"

"There's only one place in the realms we can hide where Regina won't dare to follow. Or if she does, she'll rue the day," Jefferson said. "The Dark Castle."

"The—_Dark Castle_! But that's the home of the Dark One!"

"Yup. My buddy Rumplestiltskin lives there, along with his family. We'll be safe there."

"With a dark sorcerer? Jeff, are you mad?"

"Only sometimes. He's not like you think. The curse was broken years ago. He'll grant us sanctuary, Snow."

"If you're sure?"

"I am." Then he led Deuce towards the fourth door from where they were standing, remounted him and said, "Come on, big guy, let's go."

Deuce leaped through the door way. They emerged into a brief stretch of Wonderland, galloped five feet and then Jeff found another gate and they leaped through it into a broad expanse of green fields.

He halted, picked up the hat, and then said, "We're about ten minutes from the castle now, Snow."

"Jeff, it's dawn here."

"Yup, there's a little time difference. Let's go, Deuce!"

The horse tossed his head and galloped up the familiar track to the castle looming on the hill.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It had been a trying day for Rumple and Belle up at the castle. Clary, Nick, Nora, and Phillip had all come down with some kind of spring flu, which resulted in high temperatures and aching muscles and slight nausea, though in Phillip's case the nausea was so acute he couldn't keep anything in his stomach except water.

Belle and Rumple had done their best to keep him hydrated and bathed him down with cool wet cloths, but his fever continued to soar, and finally Belle said to her husband, "Rum, he can't go on this way. I can't even get one of your potions to stay in him for more than five minutes."

"What should we do then, dearie?" asked the sorcerer. They had just gotten the other three to sleep after giving them more medicine, and the rest of the children were in bed as well.

"Can you make the potions thin enough for me to inject them?" she asked, pushing her dark hair limply out of her face, as it had straggled loose from her braid.

"Yes, I think so."

"Do it then. That's the only way I can think of to get the medicine in him now," she said. "He'll hate it, but . . ."

"Give me a few minutes," Rumple said, then went down to his lab to mix them.

Ten minutes later, he returned and gave the drafts to Belle, who went to get her Healer bag, where she kept some syringes.

Rumple sat beside Phillip, who was flushed with fever and said softly, "It'll be all right, lad."

"M' hot, Papa."

"I know."

Belle returned with the shots.

Phillip saw and he started sobbing. "No! No-o! I'll be good an' take my medicine!"

"Phillip, sweetie, this isn't a punishment. You can't keep anything down, so I have to do this," Belle explained.

"No! No, please, Papa!" the little boy was so upset he tried to get out of bed and run out the door.

Rumple grabbed him and said, "Relax, lad! The shots won't hurt. I'll numb you first." He quickly sat down on the bed and pulled the half-hysterical child on his lap, saying, "Belle, where are you giving them?"

"His left thigh and backside, Rum. They're more padded there," she replied.

Phillip was squirming and Rumple snapped, "Stop and be still! Otherwise I can't numb you and it'll hurt."

But the child had worked himself up so much that he wasn't even paying attention to his father, just howling.

Rumple sighed and turned the boy over, baring the small behind and then laying a hand on it and concentrating. "Done. Okay, Belle."

"Hold him, Rum," she said, walking over to them.

"Phillip, relax!" he ordered exasperatedly, practically pinning the little boy over his knee. "My gods, you'd think we were cutting off an arm."

Belle administered the two shots in rapid succession.

"There! It's okay, it's over," Rumple said, patting the child on the back. "Shh, lad. That didn't even hurt, now stop howling before you wake up Nick." He quickly fixed the little boy's nightshirt and drew him onto his shoulder, holding him and rocking the still sobbing boy until he realized everything was over with.

"Sweetie, you're fine," Belle said softly, stroking his hair. "He gets hysterical over shots sometimes," she told her husband. "It's a phobia."

Gradually Phillip calmed down and stopped crying. "I hate shots, Papa!"

"All right, shhh." Rum gently put the little boy back in bed. "Now, why don't you close your eyes and try to sleep, lad? You'll feel better soon."

" Kay," he sniffled. Worn out from his brief struggle, Phillip closed his eyes.

Belle brought another wet towel and wiped his face and neck with it and began to sing a lullaby. Soon Phillip was asleep, and all was still again. She glanced over at the other bed, where Nick slept and said, "Thank goodness Nick sleeps like the dead."

"That's for sure," Rumple agreed. "He almost bit me trying to get off my lap."

"Poor you! I should have warned you about it," Belle said, tossing the used syringes into a small bag to throw away later. "When he was a toddler and needed vaccinations, Rafe had to help me, and you'd have thought I was murdering him." She yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. "What time is it?"

Rum glanced out the window, where the first streaks of dawn lit the sky. "Probably around six in the morning. We should get some sleep."

Belle nodded wearily. Before they could move, however, there came a loud pounding at the doors downstairs.

"What on earth?"asked Belle, just as Rowan began barking.

"Quiet!" a sleepy Rafe ordered, and the hound went still.

The two parents descended the stairs and Rumple came to the doors and said sharply, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Jeff. Sorry about the time, Rum, but it's an emergency," came the voice of his friend.

Rumple opened the door and there stood Jefferson, looking bleary-eyed and scruffy, wearing his hat and sword. "Jeff, what in the gods' name!"

"I'll explain everything in a minute, buddy. Got any coffee? Hello, Belle. I hope I didn't wake you all up," Jefferson said, half-apologetically. "I should have used my mirror to tell you we were coming but it's a long story." He then turned and beckoned to a second cloaked figure standing just behind him. "Rum, I'd like you to meet Snow White. We need you to grant us sanctuary from Regina."

"Pleased to meet you, Your Highness," the sorcerer said. "Now come in, quickly, before you freeze. It's a little nippy out there."

Snow and Jefferson stepped inside, and Rumple shut the doors and locked them.

Jefferson went and hugged Belle and then his friend, saying, "Long time no see, huh?"

Rumple stepped back and looked at the former mercenary, frowning. "Jefferson Hatter, what in blazes have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"It's a long story, Rum."

"Come into the kitchen," Belle invited. "I'll put on some tea and you can tell us all about it. Welcome to the Dark Castle, Snow." She smiled warmly at the girl before turning and leading the way to the kitchen.

"Dearie, you ought to be in bed. We've been up all night with sick kids," Rum protested. "You need your rest."

"I'm fine, Rum. Quit being a worrywart," Belle chided. "Jeff, Snow have a seat at the table. Rum, get them some cookies or whatever we have left from dinner, they're probably starving. Then you can tell us what brings you here in the wee hours of the morning."

"Trouble," Jefferson sighed.

"We'd already figured _that_ out, genius," Rumple quipped. "What's Regina done now?"


	41. Snow's Welcome

**41**

**Snow's Welcome**

Snow was more tired than she'd ever felt in her life, except perhaps after her father had died, and she had stayed up all night crying into her pillow, but at the same time she was also excited about being here, in the home of a supposed dark sorcerer and his pretty Healer wife, according to Jefferson. She had never been in a castle quite like this one.

The one she lived in was far larger and had rooms of exotic things and expensive tapestries, carpets, and items. It was like a showpiece, all glitter and flash. But this castle . . . this seemed more ordinary and like a place that real people lived in.

A braided colorful rug lay on the floor in front of a sink with real running water, Snow observed as Belle filled the old copper tea kettle and set it on the stove, which was a large black affair. There were large counters made of wood, and these were clean, but scratched by use. Some ladles, forks, spoon, and other implements hung on hooks on the walls, along with dishcloths and oven mitts. There were bowls stacked neatly to one side, cutting boards and a block of knives. Large pots hung overhead from more hooks and in a box beside the stove slept a unicorn foal.

At least it had been sleeping, until they came into the kitchen, then the foal woke, gave a sleepy sort of whinny, and got to its feet.

Snow gasped in delight as the foal tottered out of the box of straw and shook itself. "Look, Jeff! It's a baby unicorn!"

Jefferson stared at the little creature. "My gods, Rum! When'd you get a unicorn?"

"She's a foundling, Jeff. Peter rescued her one night when he was out watching the sheep. Her mother was killed by a rogue mountain cat," Rumple informed them. "Clary called her Sweetheart."

Jeff chuckled. "That's typical of her. Clary's Rum's youngest daughter," he explained to Snow, then he laughed as Sweetheart nudged Rumple's arm and bleated at him.

The sorcerer turned and looked at the foal, saying, "No, Sweetie, it's not time for you to eat. Bae fed you before he went to bed. Now go lie down." He pointed back to the straw filled box.

The foal butted him again, making Snow start giggling too, until she realized she was laughing at a magician, and she halted, horrified.

But Rumplestiltskin was not offended, the way Regina would have been. Instead, the brown-haired sorcerer sighed exasperatedly and gently turned the foal around. "Get, you stubborn little minx!" he ordered, and gave the foal a light tap on the rump.

The little unicorn snorted and turned her head to look at him indignantly, or so it seemed. She trotted towards her bed, then stopped and looked back at Rumple, her long ears drooping. She looked very much like a mischievous toddler.

Rumple frowned and put a hand on one hip and shook the other at the unicorn. "Don't look at me like that. Bed, Sweetheart. Now."

"Oh, come on, Rum! She's an animal, not one of your kids," Jeff chortled.

"She understands what I'm saying, Jeff," the sorcerer retorted. "She's very intelligent." He raised an eyebrow and said to the foal, "Well? I'm waiting."

Sweetheart shook herself, then blew out sharply, half sticking her tongue out at the sorcerer.

"None of your lip now, girl!" Rumple scolded.

The foal's ears drooped further at the stern tone, then she heaved a sigh and jumped back into her box bed and turned about and lay down, giving Rumple an injured look from her crystal blue eyes.

Jeff whistled. "Well, I'll be hung out to dry!"

"Told you so," his friend said smugly, then he went and patted the foal, saying, "Quit sulking, Sweetheart. You go to sleep and tomorrow you can play with Snow and the rest of the children."

Sweetie nickered and nuzzled Rumple's hand. "Yes, dearie, I love you too," the sorcerer said, scratching the little animal about the horn.

Snow half-rose, then asked diffidently, "May I pet her, sir?"

Rumple turned and said softly, "Of course. And you can call me Rum, or if you really want to be formal, Master Gold. Sweetheart, this is Snow White. Now behave like the lady Clary insists you are."

Snow knelt beside the box and stroked the little unicorn, who put her small head in the girl's lap and sighed happily. "Oh! She's really sweet, Jeff!"

"Yeah, kid, she looks it."

"Feed her some carrots and sugar and you've a friend for life," Belle said.

"Now that makes how many animals here, Belle?" asked Jefferson.

His eyes widened as Belle began to name them all, until he cried, "Jumping june-bugs, what've you got here—a zoo?"

"Pretty much," Belle smiled. "It goes along with all the children." She looked at Snow White and said, "Snow, you'll probably think you've come to a crazy house at first, but we hope you'll get used to it. It might seem chaotic, but we try and be organized—or as organized as you can be with eighteen children."

"_Eighteen_ children?" Snow sputtered.

"You mean Jeff didn't tell you, dearie?" Rumple queried. "I had eight children of my own before I met Belle and she had ten, so when we married that made eighteen."

"And one on the way, right?" Jeff reminded. "Belle's expecting again."

Belle nodded, putting a hand to the small of her back. "Yes, that's right." She removed the tea kettle from the stove and began to pour chamomile tea for them all.

"You're having a baby?" Snow exclaimed, having never seen a pregnant woman before.

"Well, I'm not showing too much yet, dear. I'm only three months along," Belle said.

"And you should be in bed," her husband remonstrated. "You need to get off your feet, Belle."

She gave him a playful poke with her oven mitt. "Rumple, get some cookies and serve our guests and let me worry about resting."

"Yeah, Rum, you're starting to sound like my grandma," Jefferson teased.

"You be quiet, Jeff! If I don't make sure she rests, she'll overdo it and end up flat on her back with migraines," the sorcerer told him. He looked at his wife pointedly. "You know that's true, dearie."

Belle sighed. "Yes, I know. If you'll fetch Snow and Jeff something to eat I'll sit down."

"Is that a deal?" Rumple demanded.

"Yes, Rum," his wife grinned.

"Okay, dearie," The sorcerer clapped his hands and bread, cheese, and some leftover ham flew out of the pantry and onto the table, along with some plates and knives. "There. Now go and sit down, Belle."

Belle obeyed, going and sitting down in the chair beside Jeff, then handing the tea cups around.

Snow was shocked at the playfulness between the two, as well as the genuine concern. Regina had never acted like that with her father, she had always been formal and a little distant, and now she was only concerned with herself, a far cry from how the Golds were with one another.

She rose, reluctantly putting the foal's head on the straw and coming to the table to sip her cup of tea and eat the bread, cheese, and ham Rumplestiltskin had set out. She layered some ham and cheese on top of her slice of thick bread and took a bite, sighing in pleasure. "This tastes wonderful! I don't think I've ever tasted bread this good before."

"My daughter Ivy baked that this morning," Rumple told her. "She's an excellent cook, but so are Belle and Rennie. Jasmine too." He made his own sandwich and ate it. "I'm starving because Belle and I have been up all night nursing four sick kids with some kind of flu. But we can discuss that later. Jeff, what's been going on down in the Enchanted Forest that's made you leave your post and come here claiming sanctuary with Snow?"

As he ate, Jefferson told Belle and Rumple about Regina hiring a Black Brother to kill Snow and how she was hosting the pirates Hook and Milah as well, treating them like honored guests.

Belle looked disgusted when he said that. "It figures! Like calls to like. I guess Milah recovered from my supposed Creeping Death, the harpy! It's too bad I couldn't curse her for real, that shrew, for making you miserable, Rum."

Rumple reached out and patted her hand soothingly. "That was long ago, Belle. No sense in getting all steamed about it now. I'm rid of her and she's made her bed, now she can lie in it. With the mangy dog she calls a husband and the fleas he's given her."

Snow looked from Rumple to Belle and said, "Then you two know Captain Hook and Milah?"

"Oh yes, dearie. Milah was my first wife, back when I was young and stupid," Rumple admitted. "She ran away from me and my two natural children, Baelfire and Ivy, to go with Hook when Ivy was a month or so old."

"She . . . left you and your kids to go with a pirate?" Snow gasped. "How could she do that?"

"Because she's a selfish shrew, that's how," Belle said sharply. "But that turned out to be the best thing she ever did. Because it left Rumple free to meet me this past spring. Like I said, honey, she and Regina are a lot alike. Both of them use men like puppets, and when they can't anymore, they leave them broken on the floor. Hook's lucky she hasn't tired of him yet. But Milah and Regina are two of a kind. Cold, selfish, and manipulative. And those are their _good_ qualities. You're well shut of them, Snow, and don't ever feel guilty for it."

Snow blinked back sudden tears at how kind Belle was. "I . . . I don't want to bring trouble on you, Lady Gold. When Mo-Regina finds out where I am, I mean."

"Belle, Snow. Call me Belle. And you have the right to ask for sanctuary of us, child, because we follow the old ways, and Regina doesn't frighten us the way she does most people. My husband is one of the greatest sorcerers that ever lived, and I bet he could send her howling off like a whipped cur in a magical duel. And I'd help her along with my riding boot. Or my broom!"

Snow couldn't help it. The image that Belle presented was so funny that she laughed at little.

"Regina is a menace to everyone, dearie. And I will protect you, or anyone who asked, from her," Rumple said sincerely. "If she comes to my castle, she'd better be prepared for a war, because that's what she'll get. She might be the Evil Queen, and be hated and feared by her people, but I'm the Gold sorcerer, and I learned long ago how to skin a basilisk. No one hurts my family . . . or anyone under my protection. You can bet your life on that, princess."

Snow stared at him in astonishment. "You would do that . . . for me?"

"I would. Because you deserve to grow up free from fear and hate, like any other child," Rumple said. Then he said, rather formally, "You have claimed sanctuary here in my home, Princess Snow White. I recognize your need and grant your request. Stay here as long as you want, and consider this your second home. Jeff does."

Snow was overwhelmed. She had not been treated with such regard since her beloved father had died. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Thank you, Rumplestiltskin!" she cried, blinking rapidly to keep her tears in check. "Thank you so much!"

Belle came and handed her a towel, hugging her gently. "There now, child. Everything will work out, you'll see."

Snow suddenly threw her arms about Belle's neck and started to cry. "I-I'm sorry . . . I just . . . no one's ever . . ." she babbled, weeping into the older woman's shoulder.

Belle held her like she would have Rennie or Aurora, or any of her daughters, gently rubbing her back and saying, "You need not apologize, Snow. This was none of your fault. Regina started this, by attacking you. And we'll finish it, if necessary. Once I was like you, a princess exiled, and I fled from my ransacked burning city to the home of my aunt, Miranda, the village wise woman here in Valley Way with naught but the clothes I stood up in and my three children. She welcomed me to her home, and now I welcome you."

Snow clung to her and cried some more, saying inbetween sobs, "I . . . I don't mean to be . . . a baby . . . B-Belle . . . I don't . . . cry like this . . . usually . . ."

"Then, as my husband would say, you're overdue for it, dearie," Belle murmured, stroking the dark head beside her own. "You've nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. I cried buckets when I came to Miranda's home, for what was lost and what would never be again. You've just lost the only home you've ever known, and your only family, poor as Regina was at that."

She hugged the distraught girl to her, comforting her much as Miranda had done long ago to her, when she had been a refugee princess, and mourning her lost kingdom and people and especially her father, King Maurice, who had died defending his city in battle.

Rumple turned to Jeff and said quietly, "You did right in bringing her here, Jeff. Belle can help her heal better than anyone."

"You were the first person I thought of," Jefferson admitted. "But I don't mean to cause trouble for you, pal."

"Jeff, quit being an idiot," Rumple ordered. "You know you're always welcome here, and Regina was born to be trouble before you ever became a member of her court. She made her choice to follow darkness and if that puts her in opposition to me, so be it."

"Thanks, Rum," his friend said sincerely. "Now let's stop all the mushy stuff before _I_ start crying."

"Here's a towel, Jeff," Rumple said, smirking.

Jefferson glared at him. "You're lucky you're my best friend, Gold, otherwise I'd call you out."

"I could say the same, Hatter," the sorcerer returned, then he playfully smacked the other on the shoulder. "Maybe you ought to go to bed, Jeff. You know where the blue guest room is."

"Yeah, buddy, I know," Jefferson yawned. He looked at Snow and Belle. "Will she be all right?"

"In time. Belle knows what she's doing, Jeff. She's a Healer, she mends people. She fixed me up too."

"I'd say you returned the favor," Jefferson said sagely.

"We healed each other," Rumple acknowledged.

"Well, I'm tired as a new recruit after a first practice session," Jefferson said. "I think I'll go up to bed."

"Go then, and sleep in if you need it," his friend told him. "I know we will after the day we had."

"Tell Snow good night from me," Jefferson said. "Tomorrow I'll write to Alice and let her know what's been going on."

"Ah. Then you and Miss Sharpe are still seeing each other?" asked Rumple curiously.

"Yeah, but she got called away in assignment for Prince Phillip of Briony, which is why she wasn't there to help me," Jefferson sighed. "She's going to be mad as a wet cat on a hot griddle when she finds out what Regina's done."

"I can't blame her one bit. Good night, Jeff. Or rather, good morning, since the sun's up now," Rumple amended.

Jefferson ascended the stairs to the upper floor, and Rumple sat calmly, waiting for Belle to finish calming Snow down. He cursed Regina for her heartlessness silently, the enchantress's cruelness smacked of his father's own abuse, and he recalled only too well crying similarly on Mary Hatter's shoulder when he was a boy, trying to figure out why his father didn't love him.

_All of us here were once broken and shattered, but we managed to put ourselves back together again . . . and learn to love. Snow will too . . . in time._

Finally Snow's tears were spent, and she drew away from Belle, wiping her eyes on the dishcloth the former princess handed her. Then she stood there awkwardly, until Belle said, "You must be tired after all that, Snow. Why don't we all go on up to bed? We can all sleep in today, we all of us need it."

Belle led Snow up to the green guest room and gave her a nightgown to use. Snow got into it and was asleep almost before her head touched the pillow. Belle pulled up the covers about the exhausted girl and turned to see Rumple waiting by the doorway.

"You did good, dearie. Now let's go to sleep ourselves, before you collapse and I have to pick you up off the floor, or I do."

So that's what they did, sleeping until almost midmorning.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Snow woke feeling refreshed and quickly dressed in her second set of clothes and brushed her hair before venturing downstairs. When she did so, she found the kitchen full of children, some near her own age and others younger. One, a dark haired girl, was flipping pancakes on a griddle while another who looked like Belle was stacking them and frying up sausage in a pan. A younger girl with the dark hair and exotic coloring of the desert people was at the counter, cutting up some fruit into star shapes.

At the table sat several more children, the oldest two resembled the girls cooking, and Snow thought they were her own age, around seventeen. One of them wore the brown and green of a hunter, and had a large white, brown, and black hound beside him. The other boy had a black vest on and his hair was slightly curled and Snow thought he reminded her of Rumplestiltskin. Two older girls also sat there, one with beautiful golden hair wound about her head in an impossible long braid sat next to the boy with dog, and the other was across from them, her hair was a lighter toned gold and she was drinking a cup of coffee and rubbing her eyes. Further down the table was a smaller girl with golden curls and a boy with blond hair, they were laughing about something. Next to them was yet another boy with green eyes and sandy hair, he was gesturing to a red-haired girl. A tiny child with platinum hair sat next to him eating a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

Snow's head swam. She glanced around, unsure of what to do.

The girl flipping pancakes looked up. "Hello! You must be Snow, Papa told us about you this morning. I'm Ivy. Come in, sit down, and have some breakfast. Just fill up a plate."

"Thank you," Snow said.

"And I'm Rennie," said the girl frying sausages. She calmly put more on a plate. "Would you mind taking this over there?"

Snow took the plate of sausages and passed the smaller girl, who grinned and said, "My name's Jasmine, Snow."

As she set the platter of sausages down, the curly-haired boy said, "And I'm Baelfire, but just call me Bae. Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Elaina."

"Aurora."

"Pete."

"Jack."

"Finn. How do you do?"

"Ariel."

"I'm Kristen."

"Tom," said a tiny voice and Snow looked and saw a boy about three inches tall on the table in a tiny chair.

"June."

"And I'm Rafe," said the boy with the dog. He looked at the hound and snapped his fingers. "No begging, Rowan. You know Rum hates it." The dog promptly lay down by his chair. He looked at Snow and smiled. "We're probably overwhelming you, right? Don't worry if you can't remember who we are. We'll answer to 'hey, you' just as well as to our names."

"You can sit here next to me," Bae offered, holding out a chair for her. "Normally Clary does, but she's sick in bed, and that's where the other little kids are too."

Snow sat down, thinking that she'd never met so many kids close to her own age before and they were all so . . . polite. "Thank you, Bae," she said, and he handed her a plate with some of everything on it, and a glass full of cider. "Where's . . . Rumplestiltskin and Belle?"

"Asleep," answered Rennie, now sitting down on Bae's other side. "They were up all day and night yesterday with the little ones who were sick, so they're sleeping late this morning. And so's Uncle Jeff."

"I'm lucky I'm magic born, so I didn't come down with whatever Clary, Phil, and the twins got," said Jasmine, sitting down beside Rennie with her plate of fruit, sausage, and toast.

"You have magic?" Snow asked, surprised.

"I'm a nature witch," Jasmine asked.

"And what's magic have to do with sickness?"

"Lots. We magic born are more resistant to diseases, at least that's what Papa says. We rarely get sick, the magic alters something in our bodies, Mama told me, but I forgot what that word is."

"Occasionally, I'll come down with a small cold, but not like what they've got," Finn added, taking the plate of fruit from Aurora and picking an apple off it.

"Then . . . all of you have magic here?" Snow asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh, no. Just Finn, Jasmine, Ivy, Kristen, June, and Ariel," said Rennie. "The rest of us don't, but I think this flu is the kind only little kids get. Thank the gods! That's the last thing I need."

"You can say _that_ again," Rafe chimed in. "I could never hunt if I'm sneezing all over my arrows." He helped himself to more toast and sausage, giving a small piece to Rowan beside him. "You didn't see that," he winked at Snow.

"Pushover," Elaina teased, smirking. "You and Papa pretend you're these hardnosed guys, but you're marshmallows inside."

"Hey, that's a secret!" Rafe protested.

"I'm your girlfriend, you don't have secrets from me, Rafe Avonlea," Elaina retorted.

Snow nearly choked on her cider. "You're—you're going out?"

Elaina nodded. "We're not related, if that's what you're wondering. Rafe's Belle's son and I'm Rumple's daughter. We met before they were seeing each other, at the market when Rafe beat up this oaf who pulled my hair and tried to kiss me. And Bae and Rennie are a couple too."

"It's the opposite with us," Bae explained. "Rennie's Belle's daughter and I'm Rum's son. And we were seeing each other long before they were married. And that didn't change now that our parents are together. Sorry, I know it's confusing. Your head must be spinning."

"Only a little," Snow murmured, then she began to eat her pancakes, thinking this had to be the oddest family she'd ever met, but she was going to like staying here very much. At least here no one would laugh at her, or sneer at her behind her back, and she was safe from Regina forever.


	42. Being Neighborly

**42**

**Being Neighborly**

The local village school, run by the fairies, opened the second week of September, and Snow White and Jefferson had arrived at the castle on the last day of August, so Snow had about a week to get used to living at the Dark Castle with the Gold family before the children went to school, except Bae, who had graduated, and Clary, who was too young.

She had met everyone in the family the morning after her arrival, and was soon caught up in their everyday life, as Belle and Rumple sought to make her feel like one of the family. Snow asked them to not treat her like royalty, or even a guest in the castle, and soon Rumple had added her name to the chore schedule that all the Gold children were on, though he asked her first whether she would prefer chores inside or outside of the castle.

Snow had told him a little of both was fine, and so he assigned her simple things, like helping Aurora, Rennie, and Belle trim the rosebushes in the arbor or weeding the vegetable patch. Belle taught her about the varieties of roses and Snow took great pleasure in making small arrangements as centerpieces for the table at dinner, or putting vases filled with roses throughout the castle, until the air was perfumed with their fragrance.

He also had her set the table, wash dishes, and help Ivy, Rennie, and Belle cook, since she had expressed an interest in learning how to do so. Snow found that the chores were not as bad as she had feared, and if she didn't know how to do something, one of the children would show her, and they didn't laugh at her for not knowing how to do a thing, as most of the courtiers' children had.

"Half of us came from nobility," Elaina explained as they washed pots together one night. "I'd never done anything harder than put on a new dress before I came here. So it was a huge shock to me when Papa said it was my turn to wash dishes one night. I told him I was a princess and I didn't do menial labor."

Snow gasped. "Oh! You didn't!"

"I'm afraid so. I was a spoiled little brat then, I was twelve but I acted like I was eight. Junie over there is more mature now than I was then." Elaina scrubbed a dish and then handed it to Snow to dry.

"What . . . what did he do? Did he curse you for being impudent?" asked Snow.

"Papa, curse us? Never! He never uses his magic as a punishment, Snow," Elaina shook her head rapidly.

"Oh. Then he's . . . different from Regina. She uses her magic to punish people all the time."

Elaina shot her a sympathetic glance. "That's terrible. Did she . . . ever hurt you with it?"

Snow nodded. "Once when I was eleven, she said I had an attitude with her and she . . . she made it seem as though ants were crawling up and down me . . . for an hour. I almost went crazy. Once she turned my hair green for an entire day because she said it looked ugly and reminded her of spinach. And she made me walk around like that in front of all of her court." Snow flushed. "She said it would teach me humility, but I think . . . I think she was jealous or something."

"I'll say! If one of my sisters or brother used their magic like that, Papa'd skin them and hang them out to dry. She sounds totally awful!" Elaina shuddered, then scrubbed another dish.

"She is, now that I think about it. I thought . . . all magicians were like her until I came here," Snow admitted. "So what _did_ he do to you?"

"Umm . . . well, if I remember right, and I ought to, he said that even his daughters who were once princesses weren't above getting their hands dirty and the sooner I learned that, the better off I'd be. Then he, uh, took me by the ear and marched me over to the sink and said this was my first lesson in becoming part of his family, and he showed me how to wash dishes, well one or two anyhow, and then he made me wash the rest. I complained and moaned about it, but it didn't matter. He just stood there until I'd finished, then he said something like, see how easy that was, dearie? Tomorrow you can do some more . . . and without all the complaining you'll do it faster. I was so mad, I stamped my foot and called him a slavedriver, and that was when he took me into his study and made me stand in the corner for ten minutes while he scolded me, and you see, I'd never had anyone do that before, and first I was mad but then what he was saying started to sink in and by the time he was done, I felt something I'd never felt before—I felt guilty about what I'd done. He'd saved my life when the Snow Queen froze me into a statue and how did I repay him? By being a brat. But I learned soon enough how to behave, Papa doesn't put up with spoiled behavior at all. Or Mom either, for all she was born to the purple."

"My . . . my stepmother would think doing things like this was . . . was beneath her," Snow said, drying a platter and putting it on the counter for June to put away.

Elaina snorted. "In this castle, Snow, nothing's beneath anyone, princess or commoner. Papa always says work is work and to just do it and it'll be done. And arguing over it's a waste of breath and energy."

"Your father's a wise man," Snow said.

"He's a sorcerer, I think they all are. Sort of," Elaina said.

Snow also discovered that after chores were completed, they were free to enjoy themselves in whatever way pleased them best, like reading, in Ivy's case, or spinning, in Aurora's, or wood carving, which was Bae's hobby. Rennie quilted, Elaina made hats, Kristen could juggle, and Ariel sang and Finn accompanied her on his flute. Rafe and Pete played darts or cards for candy. Jack played board games with Tom, who could also draw exceedingly well. Nora and June could sew, and Nick and Phillip played endless games of toy soldiers and ogres vs. knights. Clary played hospital with her dolls. Jasmine enjoyed writing poems or telling stories.

The family would gather quietly in the sitting room beside the hearth, where Belle knitted smocks for the new baby and Rumple spun thread and sometimes gold on his wheel, or read stories aloud to the children. Jeff would tell stories of his days a mercenary and use whatever was around to illustrate them, like using a thimble for a mountain or a spoon for a river. Snow found that those times reminded her a little of when she and her father would quietly read in the great library, or play a hand of patience. She found that she missed those times greatly and enjoyed being among the Golds, who did things for fun, and not always for personal gain or profit.

Another revelation to her was the Gold family pets. Regina had never permitted any kind of animal inside her palace, not even a cat, so Snow had grown up without knowing how nice it was for a cat to curl up in your lap in the evening, or a dog to stretch itself out beside you for a nap. She had met Rowan and Sweetie, of course, but the first time she saw Baron ambling down the hallway, she screamed and almost ran into a wall.

But June was there to explain to her that this bear was not dangerous, and she made Baron sit up and shake hands, and told her how he was raised around people and had been a circus star and was Kristen's best friend. Then she actually _rode_ on him and had Snow feed him bits of bread and honey.

Seeing the little girl, who was quiet as a ghost, unafraid of the black brute made Snow gather up her courage and make friends with him, and she discovered she liked scratching behind his ears and hearing him groan, or licking honey off her fingers.

Jack and Ray introduced her to the horses, which she loved already, and took her riding with them on Rumple's black mare, Rogue, while they rode Steady and Archangel. Merrin de Brabante had a course of jumps at his estate, and the two boys found that Snow was just as good a rider as they were, and could make Rogue sail over the course as easy as pie.

Rennie showed her how to feed the chickens and milk the goats, which was harder than it looked.

But one of the biggest surprises was Jasmine's Rajah, the huge tiger, which Snow almost had a heart attack upon seeing as he walked through the garden with the little girl sitting on him. "There's a _tiger_ in the garden, Belle!" she half-screamed. "Tigers _eat_ little girls!"

"Not this one, Snow," Belle had said calmly. "This one is Rajah, and he's been Jasmine's protector since he was a cub. He would die before he harmed any of the children, and die to defend them as well."

Jasmine had introduced her to him, and Snow soon learned the softness of a living tiger's pelt and how he purred like thunder when you stroked beneath his chin. "He's really a big pussycat," Jasmine grinned. "Unless he thinks you're dangerous. Then he can be fierce as lightning. But he likes it when you scratch his tummy, see?" and she had the tiger lie down and get a thorough belly rub right at Snow's feet.

Tom had her meet Puss, Phillip's friendly gray and white cat, and Snow loved when the cat would curl up in her lap, purring happily, and she would pet the velvety-soft feline endlessly while listening to stories or jokes in the evenings.

She had never realized how cold and empty her life was until she started living with the Golds, who were often loud and boisterous, but always interesting to be around. Regina's endless rounds of meetings, parties, banquets, and such now seemed shallow and selfish, and her insistence on perfection and proper dress irritating and boring. Snow had been bored and irritated by it, but had never dared to say so. But here at the Dark Castle, the children said what was on their minds, and occasionally they would quarrel hotly with each other, until Rumple or Belle would step in and diffuse the situation. Which they did without threatening to whip, starve, or chain them in the dungeon. Snow thought of how many times a day Regina had threatened someone with bodily harm and wondered just what kind of madwoman she had grown up with.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On her fifth day at the castle, Snow asked Belle to show her how to make a peach pie, since it was one of her favorite things to eat. "If you have time," she said softly.

"Of course, Snow. Baking relaxes me," Belle laughed. Then she turned to the twins, who were eyeing the batch of cookies she'd just taken out to cool, and said, "Nick, Nora, why don't you show Snow how we gather peaches from the orchard?"

"Okay, Mom," said Nick and he beckoned to Snow. "Come on, Snow! You'll like this, it's fun!"

Snow followed them out to the orchard behind the castle and Nick showed her where to get a wooden bucket and then he marched up to a peach tree, which was heavy with golden peaches, and said, "Watch this!" He tapped on the trunk with his hand and said, "Let me have some."

Suddenly the tree shook itself and peaches fell right into the bucket the little boy held out.

"Oh my goodness! Is the tree intelligent?"

"No, no! Papa magicked it to do that, so we don't ever have to climb a tree to get fruit," Nick said, laughing.

"But Nick didn't bother waiting and climbed an apple tree the first week we were here and fell out of it," Nora said.

"I dislocated my shoulder and Mom had to pop it back into place," Nick said, sighing. "Gods, did that hurt! I had to wear a sling for a week and it was such a pain. But Papa showed us how to get the fruit and now we get some every week to eat all the time. Want to try it?"

Snow took her own pail and copied what Nick had done, and to her delight, the peach tree released the rest of the ripened peaches into her pail. "That's so clever!"

"That's our papa. He's the cleverest man in the world!" Nora said, her eyes shining. She gathered up some pears from another tree, then they carried the fruit back into the kitchen.

Then Belle showed her how to peel the peaches and cut them into a huge bowl and add sugar and some flour and let it sit, to let the natural juices come out and thicken. She also added some cinnamon and a pinch of nutmeg to them as well.

While she was showing Snow how to make the crust, the magical children were having lessons with Rum, and most of her other ones were outside, in the garden or the barn or chasing the crows from the corn and wheat, which were nearly ready to be harvested.

As Belle demonstrated how to roll out the dough with a rolling pin, Snow heard a loud thump and some high-pitched giggles coming from overhead.

"What's that?" she asked.

"One of the kids playing, I'll wager. It's probably Bae and Clary, since the rest of them are outside," Belle said.

Snow's eyes widened. "Bae _plays_ with Clary?"

"All the time," Belle chuckled. "Go on and see. We'll let the crust sit a little."

Snow climbed the stairs, curiosity raging within her. What could a seventeen-year-old boy and a four-year-old girl find in common, she wondered.

She followed the strange thumping sound to the playroom, and when she peered around the door, she saw Clary perched on Bae's back, who was galloping around the playroom, pretending to be her horse. Snow put a hand to her mouth. She never would have imagined the two of them playing around like this.

"Giddyap, Bae! Faster!" Clary yelled, holding onto her brother's tunic collar.

"Clary, your horse is getting tired!" Bae panted. "He needs a rest before he drops dead."

"Nuh uh! C'mon, Bae!"

Bae made one more circuit of the room before he suddenly fell over on the floor, making Clary tumble gently off his back. "See, snippet, you just ran your horse to death."

Clary climbed to her feet and sighed. "Okay, then we can play Healer now, and you're my patient."

"Wait a minute. If I'm dead, how can I be your patient?" Bae asked.

"'Cause I'm gonna make a magic potion and make you alive," Clary sang.

"Am I going to have to drink this potion?" Bae asked warily.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Of course you do! How're you gonna come back to life?"

Bae groaned. "What is it?"

"Just chocolate milk, silly!"

"All right. That's drinkable," her brother agreed.

"Now . . . you gotta lay down on the floor and close your eyes," Clary ordered.

"What for?" he teased.

"'Cause you're dead and dead people look like they're sleeping, duh!" his sister said.

Bae lay still and closed his eyes.

"Oh no! Now I gotta make a magic potion to bring him back!" Clary said aloud, and she ran over to the small table where her tea set was. On the table were a pitcher and two glasses.

She poured out some chocolate milk into a glass and brought it over to her brother.

Bae opened one eye. "Can I stop being dead yet?"

"Bae! Close your eyes! I didn't give you the potion yet!" Clary said crossly.

Bae shut his eyes. A moment later he opened one and said, "_Now_ can I stop?" He was smirking.

Clary glared at him. "Baelfire, you close your eyes right now, mister! You is s'post to be dead, now stop peeking!"

"Okay, Lady Gold," her brother pretended to be chastened and shut his eyes.

Clary went to get the glass and Bae opened his eyes, saw Snow watching from the entrance and winked at her.

Clary turned around and caught him and cried, "Hey! If you don't stop opening your eyes, mister, I'm telling!"

Bae sat up then, grinning. "You're what? You're going to tell on _me_, your big brother?"

"Uh huh," Clary nodded firmly. "Cause you're not listening. An' Papa'll make you stand in the corner."

Snow started giggling at that statement, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Bae's brown eyes crinkled with mirth and he said, "Oh, yeah? Do you know what happens to little girls that tell on their big brothers? They get . . . tickled to death!"

"No! No tickling, Bae!" Clary screamed and darted away from him, spilling chocolate milk all over.

"C'mere, you little brat!" he mock-bellowed, and jumped to his feet, then he chased her all over the playroom.

Clary ran, screeching, across the room, but Bae had only to take four big steps and he caught her in his arms. "Gotcha!" he cried, and began to tickle her until she squirmed helplessly in his grip.

"Stop! No! Please!" she cried, giggling hysterically.

"You going to tell, Miss Big Mouth?"

"Yes! I'm telling Mama and she'll smack you with her towel!"

"Not if I tickle you to death first!" Bae growled, and he hung the little girl upside down in his arm and tickled her ribs and all the way down to her feet.

Clary shrieked with laughter. "Okay, Bae! I'll be good!"

"Promise?"

"Yes!"

He swung her up into his arms then and put her down.

As soon as her feet touched the ground though, she smirked at him and cried, "Fooled you! I had my fingers crossed!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "Can't catch me! I'm telling!"

"What?" he roared, pretending to be furious. "You lied to me? Get over here!"

Clary shot him a grin that dared him to come after her, then raced towards the door.

Bae caught her in two quick leaps and tossed her into the air. "You want to go for round two, you little imp?" He caught her and tickled her some more until she begged him to stop.

"Stop, you're gonna make me wet myself!" the little girl pleaded.

"Okay, that's enough," her brother said then. He looked at the floor, which was covered with droplets of chocolate milk, in dismay. "Aww, gods, Clary! We'd better clean this up before Mom sees and has a fit."

"I'll help," Snow offered, her eyes glinting in amusement.

"Hey, Snow," Bae turned to greet her. He put Clary down and brushed himself off.

"Bae and I were playing Tickle Monster," Clary informed her. "And Dead Patient."

"And look where that got us," her brother sighed. He picked up a linen napkin from the tea set and began to wipe the floor with it.

"Bae! That's for my tea set!" Clary objected.

"So? What else can I clean this with? You want me to lick it up?"

"Yeah."

"In your dreams, imp."

"But now it's dirty."

"So then you can wash it. Now come help me, since you spilled it," he said.

"It was _your_ fault. You chased me," his sister pointed out.

"Clarissa . . ." he warned. "You help me right now or else I won't play with you tomorrow."

"Oh, all _right_!" she huffed and took another napkin from the table. She heaved an aggrieved sigh. "Don'tcha know how to clean a floor, Baelfire?"

Snow started howling with laughter at that comment.

Bae scowled and muttered, "Clarissa, I swear by the gods . . ." Then he started laughing too. "You're lucky I love you, imp." He looked at Snow and said, "See what you have to put up with when you're the eldest?"

Together they all wiped up the spilled milk, then Bae said, "Being dead sure made me hungry. Let's get something to eat."

"Yeah! I want cookies!" Clary sang.

"Your mom just made a batch," said Snow.

"Good! Let's eat some before the others do," Bae said, and he turned to go out the door.

"Wait!" Clary cried, running to him. "Can you carry me?"

Grinning, he picked her up and set her on his shoulder. "Now let's get those cookies, Miss Gold!" Then he ran down all the stairs, with Clary yelling, "Faster, Bae, faster!"

Snow followed more sedately and thought wistfully that she would have loved to have a big brother like Bae growing up. Or any siblings at all.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

After they had all eaten some cookies for a snack, Belle showed Snow how to fit the pie crust around the pie plate and fill it, then how to attach the top crust and flute it. Once they had slid the pie into the wall oven to bake, Belle turned to Bae and said, "You know, I was supposed to bring Mistress Shepherd some books today, but I'm so tired all of a sudden."

"I'll do it, Mom," Bae offered. "You go take a nap."

"Okay, just let me get them for you," Belle said, and they went to the castle library, where Belle had a pile of books to give to Mistress Shepherd. "Beatrice Shepherd is my neighbor, Snow. She lives right over the next hill to the west. She used to be a schoolteacher in the king's city, before she moved out here and married David Shepherd. She became a shepherd's wife then and later a widow, but she never lost her love for learning. Since books are scarce out here and she loves to read like I do, I lend her new books each week." She handed Bae a sack of twelve books.

He turned around and said to Snow, "Would you like to come with me? You can meet my friend James, her son. It's not far away, we can go and come back in a few hours, unless Mistress Bea invites us to stay for lunch like she does sometimes."

"Can I come too, Bae? I wanna play with Dusty and Rex," Clary asked.

"Yeah, okay. How about it, Snow?"

"Yes, I'd like that," Snow agreed.

"Bae, wait a minute," Belle said, realizing something. "We don't want anyone to know that Snow's here at the castle, because word might get back to Regina. So we should think up an alias to give her, so people don't wonder who she is."

"Like what?" asked Bae.

"What's an alias, Mama?" Clary wanted to know.

"It's a new name, honey. Like when you pretend to be someone else. Right now Snow has to pretend to be . . . a cousin of mine. We'll say that you escaped the sack of Avonlea by moving before the trolls came."

"Whatcha gonna call her, Mama?"

"Uh . . . how about . . .?" Belle thought hard.

"I know!" Snow said suddenly. "My mother's name was Mary. And my grandmother's was Margaret. How about . . . Mary Margaret?"

"Yes, that's a good name, Snow!" Belle praised her. "I'll tell Rum and the other children about calling you it when we're out in public, so they don't slip up." She looked at Clary. "Clary, can you remember to pretend that Snow is called Mary Margaret?"

"Uh huh. I can do it, Mama!"

"Good. Now don't forget. And you mind your manners with Mistress Bea. That goes for you too, Bae."

"I will, ma'am," Bae promised. "Okay, let's go."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It took approximately twenty-five minutes of walking along a small track through the rolling hills to get to the Shepherds' farmstead. Clary skipped ahead of the two teens for half the time, stopping to smell some wildflowers or point out a butterfly, but after ten minutes, the little girl grew tired and came back and asked if Bae could carry her the rest of the way.

"I knew that was going to happen," he said, and calmly swung the child up on his shoulder.

"Let me carry the books then," Snow said, and took the bag from him.

They continued walking, it was a beautiful day, with the air all clear and crisp and the sun was shining. Atop her brother's shoulder, Clary began to sing a rhyming song Rumple had taught her, and soon Bae joined her, singing in his deeper bass.

Snow listened to them, thinking that they sounded adorable.

Then Clary looked over at her and cried, "Sing with us, Mary Margaret."

For an instant, Snow almost looked around to see who she was talking to, then she recalled her new name and said, "Um . . . Clary, I don't know . . . Regina never . . . well, she always said singing was for . . . for peasants . . ."

"She wouldn't let you sing, the old witch?" Bae asked. "That's stupid!"

"And mean," Clary added. "I can teach you."

"But . . . what if I sound horrible?" Snow fretted.

"We'll never tell, right, Clary?" Bae said. "And I'm sure you'll sound fine."

"Okay. How does it go again?"

Before five minutes had gone by, Snow was singing along, having fun trying to outrhyme the two siblings, and laughing about how silly the song was getting.

"Have you ever seen a dog sitting on a log down Valley Way?" Snow sang, giggling. "Your turn, Bae."

But before Bae could answer her, someone else with a beautiful tenor chimed in, "Have you ever seen a moose licking a goose down Valley Way?"

A tall boy with dark cropped hair came walking up the path, a black and white collie scampering at his heels. He carried a shepherd's crook in his hand and was dressed in a blue shirt and brown vest with matching breeches and boots. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Bae, Clary, and Snow. "Bae, what are you cheating on Rennie?" he teased. "Better watch it, or she'll beat you black and blue. And I'd help her."

Dusty frisked up to them and jumped up and licked Snow's hand, her tail wagging.

"Be quiet, James," Bae ordered, laughing. "Say hello to my cousin, Mary Margaret . . . umm . . . Blanchard. She's come to stay for a spell, her papa just passed on and she doesn't get along with her stepmother, she's Mama's cousin."

James halted and held out a hand. "How do you do, Mary Margaret? I'm James Shepherd. Was it you I heard singing just now, or Clary-belle?"

Snow clasped his hand in hers, thinking what a lovely voice he had. His hand was warm in hers and she felt a slight tingle rush through it. "Hi. Umm . . . that was me. Did I scare you?"

"What? No, you sounded lovely," James said, smiling at her. "You can charm the birds from the trees with that voice, Miss Blanchard."

"You're just saying that," Snow blushed.

"No, I really do mean it," he protested. "Right, Bae?"

"Yeah, he does. Jim never says things without meaning them," his friend agreed.

"That's so . . . charming," Snow said, thinking at once that here was a boy she could actually talk to, who didn't spout compliments to her face and sneer at her with his friends.

"That's Jim. He can charm the wings off a fairy," Bae remarked.

"Aw, shut up!" James half-growled, and cuffed his friend on the shoulder.

"Hiya, James!" Clary waved at him from Bae's shoulder.

"Hello, snippet!" James grinned up at her. "You break your leg? Is that why Bae's carrying you?"

"No, silly! My legs just got tired!"

"Oh. C'mere, why don't you go pet Dusty? She's been waiting for you to come back and play with her," James said, and he picked Clary up off Bae's shoulder and set her down so she could romp with the sheepdog.

"Yay! Dusty, I'm here!" Clary shrilled, and ran to hug the collie, who jumped up and kissed her all over.

"The whole valley probably knows that by now, Clary," her brother said, shaking his head.

James laughed as the little girl and the dog took off down the path. "You wanna trade her for some sheep, Bae? Mom's always wanted a little girl."

"Papa'd kill me and you know it," Bae snickered.

"What brings you down here at this time of day?" James asked, falling into step beside Bae and Snow.

"Belle wanted to bring your mom some books," Snow answered, showing him the sack of reading material.

"Here, let me get that," James said, and plucked the books from her grasp.

"Charming, no, I've got it!" Snow protested.

James just shook his head. "No, _I've_ got it. My mom would box my ears good if we showed up at the house with you carrying this instead of me. A lady never carries parcels with a gentleman around."

"Mistress Bea's Rules of Manners 101," Bae snorted. "And a gentleman always holds open a door for a lady to enter. Remember the time you did that for snooty Arachne Miller when we were in school?"

James started laughing. "Yeah, I do."

"What's so funny?" Snow asked.

"Because it was the door to the outhouse!" Bae answered. "She was going on about how she was better than the rest of us, and putting on airs, like usual, when we were at recess, and James goes and opens the door to the outhouse and bows and says, 'Here's your throne, Princess Miller,' The look on her face!"

"I should have been dead on the ground," James recalled.

"The rest of us almost died laughing," Bae smirked.

"Serves her right!" Snow said, also laughing.

"You're my kind of girl, Mary Margaret," James smiled. "No snooty princesses for me." Then he coughed and said, "But that was nothing compared to what your dad did to her at the spinning contest. That was the best!"

"What did he do?" asked Snow.

James looked her up and down. "Bae never told you yet? Oh, this is the best story, Mary Margaret. And I'll just have time to tell you it before we get to my house . . ."

Snow listened, delighted, as James told her about Aurora's narcolepsy and the annual spinning contest at the midsummer festival, which stuck-up Arachne had always won, because Aurora fell asleep, until Archie cured her with hypnosis . . .

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

By the time they reached the Shepherd homestead, Snow was laughing so hard she was almost in tears at James' comic rendition of the outcome of the spinning contest. "And Rum really turned her into a spider?" she asked.

"Uh huh, but it was only for a night," James said. "She'd go back to being her old snotty self the next morning. Her dad spoils her rotten. Though I swear, Mary Margaret, if she'd been three years younger, Rum wouldn't have turned her into a spider, he'd have turned her over his knee!"

"You're probably right," Bae agreed, grinning. "And that would've taken the wind out of her sails right quick, to get a spanking in front of the whole town like that."

"Which would have been just what she needed. Always has. Even my mom says so," James chuckled. "But the spider was a great trick."

By then they had come to a small cottage set in the center of a yard with a stone walkway bordered with buckets of pansies and dahlias. The stone chimney was sending up great curls of smoke, and a split-rail fence separated the front yard from the back, where Snow heard sheep baaing. On the porch was another collie, this one was brown and white, and he jumped up and began barking happily as soon as he saw them.

"That's Rex," James said. "Rex, come say hello." He gave the dog a certain signal with one hand and the collie sprang off the porch and sprinted over to them.

Snow knelt and got her face washed by an enthusiastic Rex while trying to pet him. "He's so cute!"

"Yeah, he loves people," James said. He snapped his fingers. "Rex, sit! Now shake hands with the lady."

The collie stopped licking her and sat, then offered her a paw.

Snow took it, and said, "Thank you, kind sir!"

Rex barked happily, wagging his tail so hard the dust stirred.

Just then the door to the cottage opened and a woman with light brown hair in a bun wearing a sprigged calico dress came out on the porch. "Come inside and have a cup of lemonade. James, where are your manners, boy? Quit playing with that dog and show your guests inside, before they expire."

"Yes, Mom. Come on, before she grabs my ear," James said, chuckling.

"I've seen her do that before," Bae teased.

"Yeah, while she was grabbing yours too," James retorted. They came up the porch steps and James hugged his mother. "Hi, Mom. Miss me?"

"Get inside, you charming rascal," Mistress Shepherd laughed, her eyes were twinkling like her son's as she shooed him into the house along with her other two guests.

Then she turned and said, "How do you do, miss? I'm Beatrice Ruth Shepherd, but everyone just calls me Bea."

Snow held out her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Mary Margaret Blanchard, Belle's cousin from Avonlea."

Beatrice smiled warmly at her. "Ah, so were you there when the city was taken? Terrible thing, that, we heard about it even over here, in King Jason's realm."

"No . . . we . . . we got out before it fell," Snow said.

"Good thing. Are you staying up at the castle then?"

"Yes, ma'am. Belle says I can stay there as long as I like now that . . . that my papa's passed on."

Beatrice's eyes softened and she said, "I'm sorry for your loss, child, but the gods will welcome him home. And you'll have a grand old time at the castle with the Gold children. The more the merrier! Come, have a seat and I'll get you something cold to drink." She ushered Snow to the table, which was the main piece of furniture in the room.

Clary was already sitting there, with a glass of her own lemonade and a piece of bread and jam. Dusty was sitting beside her chair, looking up at her hopefully.

"Hello, Bae! How's everyone keeping at your place?" Beatrice asked as she poured lemonade into three glasses.

"Just fine, Miss Bea," Bae said, coming to sit next to Clary.

"Your mom been feeling okay? A fourth baby can really take it out of you. I know, because I had three after Jim there. Though the gods called them home before they ever saw the light of day," Bea said.

"Oh! How sad!" Snow exclaimed.

"Ah, well, that was as the gods intended," Beatrice said practically. "Besides, James was into enough mischief for four kids when he was a youngling. Him and Bae both!"

"Thanks, Mom!" James rolled his eyes. "Like Mary Margaret wants to know that."

"You mean like the time they chased a lamb through a mud puddle and it got in the house and broke a chair and your good milk pitcher, Miss Bea?" Clary piped up.

"Yes, Clary darlin', just like that," Beatrice laughed softly.

James covered his face with his hand. "Oh my gods, Mom, I can't believe you told her that! I'm going to crawl under the table now."

"And maybe I'll join you," Bae said ruefully. "I thought I was lucky, that Belle doesn't know half of what I got up to as a kid."

"Ah, but _I_ do, laddie, so watch it!" Beatrice said, shaking a playful finger at her neighbor.

"You mean you weren't perfectly behaved children?" Snow queried mischievously.

"Of course we were!" James interjected hastily.

"Yeah, when they were sleeping!" Beatrice snorted. "Don't let him fool you, Mary Margaret. These two were some of the worst scamps in the valley, drove me crazy trying to keep tabs on them, they were always wandering off somewhere."

"Yeah but you always found us again," her son said. "And then we ended up here at the table, writing definitions."

"Definitions?" Snow asked.

"That's how she punished us," Bae sighed. "She was as bad as Papa. We had to write ten definitions of words or more depending on what we were in trouble for. Because . . ."

"Learning and discipline go hand in glove," James quoted at the same time as Bae. "Sometimes I used to wish she'd beat me."

Beatrice ruffled his hair. "Which is why I didn't. I used to be a schoolteacher, Mary Margaret, if you didn't know that already. So I tended to use the same methods I did on my students on my son, they worked just as well. So, how's your mama, Bae?"

"She's feeling better. Papa makes her rest every afternoon. That's what she's doing now, resting," Bae told her.

"But we brought you more books, Miss Bea," Clary informed her.

Beatrice's eyes brightened. "Thanks be to the gods! I was going crazy reading the last batch over for the fifth time. Tell Belle she's an angel. Do you like to read, Mary Margaret?"

Snow nodded. "I do." She named several of her favorites.

"Ah, a girl after my own heart!" Beatrice said. "Are you still going to school?"

"Umm . . ." Snow paused, wondering how to field this one.

"She'll be attending one more year," Bae said quickly. "Then she'll be done, like James and I are."

"That's good. Get all the education you can, girl. You never know when it might come in handy, even if you've married a shepherd." Beatrice said.

"She's right . . . even if she did think she could deliver a calf by reading a book once!" James reminded her, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Wretch!" Beatrice said, swatting him playfully on the ear. "That was when I first married his dad, and I had no clue how to do anything like that. I was a city girl, what did I know about livestock? So I decided to teach myself, and I bought a book on animal husbandry and I was reading it while the poor cow was in labor, trying to figure out what came next."

"When my dad comes in and says, hey, Bea gal, don't waste your time reading about it when the job's already done. Look, the baby's born!" James chuckled.

"He was right, the calf was lying on the straw before I'd gotten to page ten," Beatrice grinned. "I should've waited."

"But my dad always said he had the smartest wife in ten kingdoms," James said loyally. "And he was right."

"Flatterer! He gets that from his dad. David had a silver tongue too, but a good heart as well, and Jim's got both," Beatrice said fondly. "Now how about some lunch? I have potato and leek stew and bread if anyone's hungry."

No one refused her invitation and before an hour had passed, Snow found she was enjoying the Shepherds' company as much as she did the Golds. How Regina would have sneered at these provincial folk, she thought as she ate her stew, but Snow discovered she enjoyed this simple meal and fond reminiscing over any feast she had ever attended in her father's palace. She especially liked the company of James Shepherd, who despite his charming tongue seemed to see right to the heart of a person, and he was as handsome as any noble's son she had ever seen besides.

She almost regretted having to go back to the castle, but she thanked Beatrice gracefully as they were leaving.

"You come back again soon, child," said the former teacher. "We'll talk some more about books. And you make my Jim smile, so we need to keep you around."

Snow blushed furiously and ducked her head.

"Until we meet again, fair lady," James said, cupping her chin in his hand and looking into her eyes.

Snow smiled at him. "I'll be looking forward to that, Charming."

"Is that what you're going to call me?" he asked, laughing.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all. So long as it's you calling me that."

Snow blushed again and thought about kissing him. He had such kissable lips.

"Go on and kiss her, Jim! I won't look!" Clary called.

James went red and then he said quickly, "Better do what she said." He kissed Snow lightly on the lips, a mere peck of friendship, at least that was what he intended.

But the kiss was like ambrosia to Snow, sweet and satisfying and she had kissed him back before she knew it. Then she realized what she'd done, and drew away. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"For kissing me?"

"No, for . . . oh, never mind! Goodbye!" Snow cried, and practically trampled Clary trying to get away, her face hotter than fire.

"When will I see you again?" Charming cried.

"I'll bring her by on Saturday," Bae answered, then he picked up Clary and raced off after Snow.

"James kissed Mary Margaret, Bae!" Clary giggled. "Do they love each other then?"

"Well, maybe they're starting to," her brother told her. "But don't say anything about that, okay, Clary? You might embarrass Snow. Got me?"

"I hear you, Bae," Clary sighed. "I'm not deaf."

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Gods know that's ever true!" Then he ran swiftly down the path towards the castle, hoping to catch Snow before they got there so he could reassure her that they wouldn't tease her about her affection for their charming shepherd neighbor.

**A/N: This is for golden-beauty, and for anyone else who was wondering what ages all the children are now. Bae-17, Rennie, Elaina, and Rafe-16, Aurora-15, Ivy and Ariel-14, Finn-13, Kristen-12, Tom-11, Jack and Peter-10, Jasmine-9, Nick and Nora-8, June-7, Phillip, 6, Clary-4. Belle is 34 and Rumple and Jeff are 35. Charming (James) is 17 and so is Snow. Ray is 12 and Archie and Myrnin are 14.**


	43. School Days

**43**

**School Days**

Snow spent the rest of the week until school started in a fog, half of her worried about actually attending school, when she had never had anything but tutors before, and the other half daydreaming about James Shepherd. She was scared she had been too forward, kissing him like that, what must he think of her, that she was a tramp? Was that how most girls behaved when they met a guy they liked? She didn't know, having only Regina as an example, and when Regina wanted a man, the man happily obliged her. Or else suffered her wrath. Or so it seemed that way to Snow. But she didn't want to be like her stepmother, Snow reminded herself. And were there rules in this family about dating someone? Did James have to ask permission, like he would have with Regina, to see her?

She longed to ask someone else about it, like Elaina or Rennie, but here her courage failed her. What if she mentioned that she liked James, only to discover that her feelings weren't returned? Then what? She would feel like two kinds of an idiot. So she kept silent, but inwardly she fretted and stressed.

Her other worry was going to school. Rum and Belle had asked her if she wanted to attend, since she was almost too old to do so. They had said the choice was up to her, and if she wished, they would enroll her as Mary Margaret Blanchard, Belle's cousin, and she would be in Rennie's class, which was graduating at the end of the year. She had said yes, and Rumple had gone to Blue and filled out the necessary paperwork on Friday.

But now Snow was having second thoughts. She had never been to any school before, as a princess she'd been given private tutors from the time she could talk, and only occasionally had lessons with other noble children, like in dance class. And she had always felt so awkward around them. Sometimes she had enjoyed her lessons, but other times had been bored to tears. But if she didn't like a tutor, her father had always managed to dismiss them and find a new one for her. What if she found her classes here boring? Rafe had told her that each grade in the brick school house had a fairy who taught it, and she certainly couldn't dismiss her! Snow also worried about not knowing enough, even though she had the best education her father could provide for her. What if her tutors had only passed her because she was the princess, and not because she had learned anything well? She knew how courtiers worked. What if she was actually stupid and that fact only came to light here, with the fairies teaching her?

She talked with Ivy and Tom, who reassured her that for the most part, school was fun, and a place you could meet new friends and learn interesting things. "But is it hard?" she asked cautiously.

Tom shook his head. "Nah. School's easy. If you pay attention to what your teacher wants. Don't and you'll be in trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Uh huh. The fairies use demerits, you get one for each time you don't follow directions on an assignment, or turn in homework, or talk back to your teacher. You get five for fighting with another student, unless you have a really good reason to punch them out—no, scratch that, the fairies believe there _is_ no good reason, but Papa does—if you get ten in a week that means a trip to Blue's office."

"Blue?"

"The Blue Fairy, but we all call her Blue. She's the principal, she runs the whole school."

"What happens then?"

"Uh, it depends on what you're in trouble for," Tom told her. "I've never been there, but Jack has once because he kept forgetting to do his math homework. He said Blue can scold the blazes out of you and give you make up work till it comes out of your ears and if you don't complete it, she'll call your parents for a conference. Only she never has for any of us, mostly because Papa's on the school board, so he knows everything that goes on anyhow. Or if it's really bad, like you cussed out a teacher or hurt someone, she'll suspend you, and call your parents or if you're a chronic troublemaker, she'll kick you right out eventually. It's called expulsion and only one kid has ever been so bad that he's gotten expelled."

"Who was it and what did he do?"

"His name was Ezra Skinner, and he was almost ready to graduate when he decided to try and witch his report card—that's what the teachers send home to your parents that tells them how you're doing in each class—and make it perfect, so he could impress some stupid girl, Lana Pearson. Ezra was never the brightest crayon in the box, and he bought a spell off a hedge witch . . ."

"A hedge witch?"

"Yeah, you know—a magician who sucks at casting spells and whose charms only work half the time. You never call one of the magic born a hedge witch unless you want to make them mad, it's like calling one of us an incompetent dunderhead, but anyway, he went to one who was passing through, usually they travel like peddlers, selling their charms and potions, so they can get out of town when people find out their stuff doesn't work like they were told, and he bought this charm that could change his grades to all A's—that's perfect, see—but the charm only lasted an hour and when Blue went to send all the report cards home by the messenger fairies, she saw that something was odd, cause she knows Ezra's never been a straight A anything—unless it's for getting in trouble—and when she looked at it, she saw magic. Magic's absolutely forbidden at school from students, even the teachers hardly ever use it, and well, she darn near turned herself inside out. Papa said she was like shooting blue sparks, she was so ticked off."

"Your papa was there?"

"Uh huh. For something like that, she calls him, since he's on the school board. Him, Geppetto, Rufus Miller, and Mistress Shepherd. They were _all_ called when that happened. And so were all the teachers. They had this big meeting and when it was over they called Ezra in there and his mom and dad, and after _that_ they decided he ought to be expelled for breaking one of the most important rules and for cheating. Papa said Ezra wasn't really sorry for it at all and his parents really didn't care, it was why they'd expelled him. So it might teach him a lesson, but I doubt it. That night, after dinner, Papa called us all together and told us what had happened, and he said if any of us ever did something like that, he'd thrash us till we howled, and have us doing chores so long our fingers fell off. Not that any of us would."

Even with Tom's encouragement, Snow fretted so much that she ended up washing the same section of the foyer floor six times that night after supper, something which neither adult failed to notice, and which resulted in Rumple coming over to her and asking in his quiet way, "Is there something bothering you, dearie? You've scrubbed that section so much that soon it'll become reflective. Unless that's what you wanted?"

Snow jerked up so fast the scrub brush went skittering across the floor. "Oh! Rumplestiltskin! I'm sorry."

"For what? Did I startle you? My apologies. It's just that Belle noticed you've been scrubbing the floor like a fiend and thought there might be something wrong, so she sent me to ask you about it. She's having one of her headaches again and is sleeping upstairs, that headache tea knocks her for a loop. Is there something wrong, Snow? You can talk to me, unless you'd rather speak with Belle when she's awake again. But I'm not Regina, dearie, I won't bite your head off."

Snow looked at the sorcerer, who was eyeing her with concern, such as she had only known from her father and Jefferson, and stammered, "Umm . . . well . . . but what if I ask a stupid question?"

"Dearie, I doubt you could do that, and no question is ever stupid, just one that you don't know the answer to yet. And that's what Belle and I are here for, to answer them, and if we don't know an answer, we'll find one."

"You . . . you promise you won't laugh at me?"

"On my honor as an archmagus," Rumple said.

"All right . . . umm . . ." she glanced down at the puddle of water surrounding her and the soapy bucket and the brush swimming across the floor.

Rumple snapped his fingers twice and the water vanished and so did the bucket and the brush. "There! The floor is clean enough for me to see my face in. Now come upstairs and we can talk privately in my study."

Snow followed him up to that room, but hesitated before putting a foot across the threshold, until Rumple said, "No need to act like this is a torture chamber, though I'm sure my kids have told you this is where I normally hand out punishments. I do that because this room is soundproofed, once I shut the door, no one can hear what I say, and so they're spared the embarrassment of everyone else hearing when I scold them. But it's really just my office, where I do my paperwork and relax after my magic lessons. Have a seat," he gestured to one of the chairs before his desk.

Snow sank into a chair, as Rumple shut the door, grateful for the privacy. Regina usually insisted upon public chastisements for anyone who crossed her, and Snow found herself saying, "That's nothing like what my stepmother used to do. She—she didn't care who heard her yelling or why, when she was angry with you, the whole court knew about it, because they were there when she started screaming."

Rumple frowned in disapproval. "That's because Regina enjoys humiliating people, and she needs to have an audience, like a spoiled child. I don't, and if I ever have reason to scold you, Snow, it will remain between you and me, because it's no one else's business but yours. Humiliation like Regina's only serves to alienate family, and I did enough of that as the Dark One, I don't need to keep repeating it." He seated himself behind his desk in his comfy leather chair. Then he simply waited for Snow to speak.

Snow took a few moments to moisten her dry throat and try to think of how to ask what she wanted to know without sounding like a complete idiot. It was odd, but she felt none of the breath-stealing fear she did when Regina confronted her about something, even though she was fully aware that Rumplestiltskin had as much, if not more, power than Regina and could use it to hurt her terribly if he wished. With Regina, one was never sure how to act, because the slightest thing could set her off, but the Gold sorcerer radiated an aura of calmness . . . like the eye of a hurricane . . . and Snow found herself relaxing in spite of herself.

"Umm . . . okay . . . I _was_ worried . . . just a little . . . about going to school, sir. I've never been anywhere except the Enchanted Forest, and most of my life's been spent on the palace grounds, with tutors, so I . . . was afraid I might not . . . umm . . . fit in with other kids my age . . . and I don't know if I've learned half of what they have and I don't want to seem stupid . . . my moth—Regina said sometimes I was dense as a post and it was no use trying to teach me certain things . . . I don't want you to be embarrassed by me or anything . . ." Snow trailed off and looked at her hands.

Rumple sighed softly and looked at the girl before him sadly. "Snow, look at me, please. Regina's chewed you up and spit you out good, hasn't she, dearie? You're a princess and yet she's made you feel lower than the servants who clean the chamberpots."

"I tried . . . oh, Rumplestiltskin, I tried so hard to be what she wanted, but I just . . . couldn't do anything right! I'm a . . . a lackwit . . . I must be—" Snow said miserably, the old sense of failure slamming into her again. Her eyes prickled with tears.

"You aren't, Snow. Your father, King Edward, didn't produce a half-wit. What he _did_ do was marry a jealous selfish harpy who did her utter best to tear apart his daughter's self-confidence. Here, dearie, use this instead of your sleeve," he handed her one his handkerchiefs, embroidered by Belle, with an R and a chipped cup on it.

Snow took the handkerchief and dried her eyes with it. "I . . . I'm sorry . . ."

"Why? Because you're upset? Hell, dearie, _I'm_ upset and I'm not apologizing for wanting to turn Regina into a slug and make her lick my boots. You're not anything she's said about you, and let me tell you how I know that. Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a village far from here, the child of a spinner and a tinker, and he had the unfortunate circumstance to be born to two people who hated themselves and their lives and took it out on him every chance they got. They belittled each other and the boy, called him idiot and dumber than an ogre's hind end, and often he went to bed hungry, not just for food, for they never had enough of that, but for a kind word or a hug instead of a smack. He thought it was all his fault, and he vowed every night to do better tomorrow, but he never could keep his promise, because there was no pleasing people like that. They weren't satisfied with themselves, so how could they ever be satisfied with him? But one day he made a friend, and that friend had a wise old grandmother, who showed the boy true kindness and gave him what his parents never could—love and acceptance and she told him that it was his parents who were wrong, not him. And in time he came to realize she was right and he learned to stand up for himself and not be anyone's rug to be beaten into submission. That he was worthy of self-respect and compassion just because . . . and for no other reason. Like you, Snow White."

She met his brown eyes, stared into their depths, and suddenly she gasped. "The boy . . . it was _you_, wasn't it?"

Rumple nodded. "Got it in one, dearie. Now would an idiot without half a brain know that?"

"N-no . . ."

"Of course not. That was me, long ago, and if not for Jeff's grandmother, the gods know what I would have become. Probably a slave to the Dark One's curse. But that didn't happen. Yes, I made a terrible mistake, but with help I managed to set it right, and become the good person Mary Hatter saw in me when I was a child. Because I believed her, and believed that I wasn't the worthless useless cowardly little scrap my parents told me I was. I know how much those words can tear you apart, make you think you're nothing and no one could ever think otherwise, but dearie, that's Regina talking. And she lies, Snow, she always has. She lies to herself everyday when she talks to her mirror and has it tell her she's the fairest and the best in all the realms."

He leaned forward and patted her shoulder. "Listen to me now, as one lost child to another, _everything _she's told you is false, like a fake gold piece. You've been living on the crumbs from her table for too long, Snow. She wants you to crawl on the ground, to wallow in the dirt, because only then can she feel secure. Can she feel that she's better than you. Because inside she's hollow and broken at the core, rotten as a bad apple, and she knows that. Her beauty is skin deep, Snow, and no one knows that better than she does."

"But I've never done anything to make her hate me!"

"Dearie, you don't have to. She hates you because you're everything she's not, and the only way she can live with that is to destroy you. Or try to. But you're not going to let her, are you?"

Snow shook her head, dashing the tears from her eyes with Rumple's handkerchief.

"Good, that's my brave girl! Now, I want you to do something for me. I want you to think about ten good things about yourself and say them every night before you go to sleep. They don't have to be anything earth shattering, just simple things, like _I learned how to make cranberry almond cookies today_ or _I like the way my hair looks_, but whatever they are, say them to yourself before you go to bed."

"Why?"

Rumple smiled enigmatically. "Just trust me. And don't worry about school, if anyone makes fun of you there, you come tell me or Belle and we'll put a stop to it. Nobody hurts my family, I don't give a rat's ass who they are. That goes for you too. As for you not having a good enough education, if you have problems with any subject, which I highly doubt you will, but if you do, feel free to come and ask me or Belle for help. Anytime."

Snow sniffled into his handkerchief for a few moments. "You . . . have been so kind to me . . . and I'm not even related to you . . . and Regina might attack you because of me . . ."

"She'll rue the day her mother ever kissed her father if she does that!" Rumple snorted. "She'll be writing the end to her own funeral, dearie, but that's her choice. You're not responsible for her bad decisions, Snow. As for not being related to me . . . who cares? Jeff's not related to me and he's like my brother. Blood doesn't make a family, dearie. Love does that. Just ask Belle. Now, is there anything else you wanted to ask me?"

"Uh . . . what if . . . I met someone . . . and . . . he . . . wanted to court me . . . does he have to . . . ask you for permission?" Snow blurted.

"Well, I'm not your father, but I wouldn't mind meeting him. Just to make sure he's not some kind of rogue trying to take advantage of you. Other than that, you can see each other the same as Rennie, Bae, Elaina, and Rafe do. But I will ask you to do two things for me. One, no hanky-panky in my castle, and two, if you're going out somewhere with whoever, let me know where you're going and come back at a decent hour, like before midnight. If you can't, get a message to me. Oh, and try not to go out on a school night. Those are the same rules Belle and I set for our other children that date."

"I can do that, sir," Snow said gratefully. "I'm glad I talked with you, Rum."

"And I'm glad you don't see me as some wicked necromancer like Regina. Or some ogre out to steal your freedom, the way most teenagers think of their parents."

"I'd never, sir. Because I've _had_ an ogre for a parent, and you're nothing like her."

"Gods forbid!" Rumple swore. "And if I ever start becoming like her, you have my permission to kick me hard, dearie."

"I'd have to go through Belle first," Snow giggled.

"There'd be precious little left of me by then," the sorcerer chuckled. "I'm going to go down and see if there's any apple crumb left, unless my children ate it all, the greedy pigs. Care to join me?"

Snow smiled and said, "I'd be delighted, Rum."

They found there was still some left, and they ate together in the kitchen, and Snow felt better than she had in a long time, her spirit brighter and more at ease, and the depression that had been her constant companion banished to a dark corner of her mind. _Rumplestiltskin's right. I can be whatever I choose, and to hell with Regina. If I just knew what that is. _She smiled at Rumplestiltskin, who like her had been an unloved child and thought if he could overcome that, then so could she . . . if she believed in herself.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The first day of school dawned, impossibly bright and early, at least for the Gold children who'd be going there this year, and there was the usual scramble and bickering over the bathroom and who got so-and-so's washcloth and who forgot to wash someone's extra pair of socks or tunic. By the time they all came downstairs, Belle had a large pot of oatmeal on the hob, Rumple had made toast and bacon, and there was fruit and jam on the table, along with milk and coffee, as usual.

The two parents had done the kids' school lunches the previous night, to avoid all the chaos that would cause this morning, and they had decided long before to make one kind of sandwich for all of them to take, unless a child absolutely detested something. They did this with a sort of assembly system, assisted by Ivy, Snow, and Bae. Thirty-four slices of bread were set out along the counter, which Snow spread with mustard or mayo, and Ivy put lettuce and tomatoes on. Belle topped them with cheese and Rumple sliced ham with a spell and added it, since today's sandwich was ham, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. They were also cut into triangles by Ivy.

Then they were wrapped up in brown paper by Bae and put in each child's lunch pail, which had their name and last name's initial on it. Accompanying the sandwich of the day was the fruit and vegetable of the day—in this case grapes and carrot sticks, though since Jack hated carrots, Belle gave him cucumber slices. They also had two or three cookies, which today were chocolate chips. This was followed by a small jug of spring water with a splash of lemon. The lunch pails were spelled by Rum to remain cold, so nothing spoiled in the summer heat.

All the lunches were lined up near their backpacks, which had their names on them as well, and were filled with this term's books, parchment, pens, ink, and in Phillip's case a slate and chalk.

As the scholars gathered around the dining table, eating at top speed, Rumple gave last minute instructions to a few of them. "Rennie, will you go with Snow to see Miss Cassie and get her schedule? She told me she would have it first thing this morning." Cassie was short for Cassiopeia, the secretary fairy, who made up schedules for all the students. "Rafe, would you mind walking Phillip to his classroom? I'd do it but Master Montmercy wants me to take a look at his spinning wheel, it seems carpenter ants have been gnawing on it, and that's like the kiss of death to a spinner and weaver, so I have to be down there at eight o'clock this morning."

"And I'd do it, but I have to see patients this morning at Shoe House," said Belle.

"Not a problem," Rafe said. "I'll make sure he doesn't get lost and no bully tries to steal his lunch either."

"What's the name of my teacher again, Papa?" asked Phillip.

"Uh . . . you're first grade . . . this one's new this year, fresh out of the Fairy Academy . . . I think her name's Miss Scorpia."

"We've got Nova this year, Snow," Rennie said. "She always teaches the graduating class. And Flora's our herbologist and her twin Fauna our natural science teacher."

"Miss Altair's fifth grade," said Jack. "She's also the math teacher for fourth, fifth, and sixth."

"Miss Deneb's your teacher for second grade, Junie," Kristen said. "And I have Miss Capella for seventh, she's history too."

"I have old Bat Wings—that's Vega—for eleventh grade and she's composition and literature too," Rafe groaned.

"Bat Wings?" queried Snow.

"Yeah, her wings look like a bat's for some reason, so we all call her that, but not to her face," Rafe said.

"I'd hope not, Raphael!" Belle frowned.

"We've got Polaris for third, I've heard she's easy," said Nora happily.

"She is, compared to Miss Delphinia, whose fourth," said Jasmine.

"Better watch it, Jasmine. Delphinia catches you doodling in your notebook and she'll smack you with two demerits so fast your head will be spinning," Peter warned.

"Yeah, she's an old crab," Finn agreed. "Thank the gods I have Miss Lyra this year, she's the music teacher and she doesn't mind if I make up tunes after I've done my classwork. Delphinia told me I should find more constructive uses for my time." Finn rolled his eyes. "So I wrote lyrics about her, and she hated that, but she couldn't complain since she'd told me to do something else."

"Finn, for heaven's sake!" Rumple sighed.

"I have Miss Andromeda this year, and she's the astronomy teacher," Tom said happily. "She designed a new telescope and I can't wait to use it."

"Well, I hope she shrinks it for you," said Elaina.

"She will, because otherwise she couldn't use it, since she's one of the fairies that's always her real size, as tall as me," Tom answered.

"Wait, the teachers are different sizes?" Snow asked.

"Uh huh," nodded Aurora. "It depends on what grade they teach. Usually the ones teaching the little kids are human size, without wings. And the ones teaching the older kids switch back and forth, between their real size and human size."

"Like our teacher, Miss Aldebaran," said Ivy. "She likes to become small for some lessons and big for others, I don't know why."

"Maybe it's so she doesn't get bored," Ariel speculated.

"Do they all have star names?" Snow asked.

"Yeah, I think it's 'cause the first fairies were made from star dust or something," Aurora said. "Or at least that's the legend."

Rumple clapped his hands. "All right, children, enough chatter. Get your things and start walking over to the school before you're late. Otherwise you'll get a demerit for it."

This was accompanied by good-natured groans, but they all obeyed, grabbing their pails and satchels and heading out the door.

Clary watched wistfully and said, "I wish I could go to school."

"Next year, snippet," Rumple consoled her. "But for now you'll have school with me."

"But this morning you can help me roll bandages," Belle told her.

"For your sick patients?" Clary asked. "Neat!"

"Only you'd think that was wonderful, Clary," Bae said, ruffling her red-gold hair.

"I like helping Mama do Healer things," his small sister said. "I think I'm gonna be one when I'm big."

"Really, Clary?" Belle sounded pleased as punch.

"She's a seventh daughter, dearie. I think it's born in her," Rumple said. "Who knows, she might have inherited the magic too."

"How'll I know, Papa?"

"When you're a little older, like June's age, I'll test you," Rumple said. "Now, I have to saddle Rogue and be going. Nate's probably pacing through the floor by now."

He bid goodbye to his wife and remaining children then went outside to saddle the black mare.

As he did so, Jeff came into the kitchen, yawning. "Is there any coffee left, Belle?"

"Right here, Jeff. And here's some oatmeal, toast, and bacon," she passed him a bowl and a plate.

"Ah, breakfast of champions, as my old commander used to say," Jeff said and took the food and sat down with it, along with a large mug of black coffee.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Miss Capella's classroom:_

Kristen hurried into her seventh grade classroom and slipped into an empty seat next to her best friend, Colleen MacKay, who was a former entertainer's daughter, a blue-eyed brown-haired girl who could do four back handsprings in a row, her parents had been acrobats until her father had broken his wrist badly in an accident, ending his career, and now worked as the bookshop owner in Valley Way with her mother as his assistant.

"Hey, how was your summer, Colleen?" asked Kristen as she dumped her books on her desk.

"Same old, working with my dad in the bookstore. How was yours with all your new sibs and Archmagus Gold at the castle?"

"It was wicked. You saw the trial between my papa and that scumbag Sully, right?"

"Sure we did. Have you learnt any new magic since then?" asked her friend.

"I can turn my whole arm into a bear's paw and leg. Papa says that's really good for a first time shifter," Kristen said proudly. "And my new sister Jasmine can talk to animals. She can tell Baron what I'm saying and translate what he says back to me."

"That's so cool! One of these days, when I have some free time, I'm going to have to come visit," Colleen said. "If I can ever get away from the shop long enough."

"Attention, everyone!" came the soft voice of their new teacher, Miss Capella, a fairy who was human size but dressed in the gauzy sky blue skirt and sparkly top of a traditional fairy, she had pointed ears and long blue hair to match her outfit. She had her wand and a pouch of fairy dust in her belt and sparkly silver shoes on her feet. She was standing at the front of the room with a girl around twelve wearing a red cape and hood over a gray shirt and pants with soft black boots. The girl had long dark hair and a petite build and looked about shyly.

"Class, I'd like you to welcome a new student this year. This is Ruby Lucas. She and her grandmother just moved here to Valley Way. What do you say?"

"Hello, Ruby!" the class of twelve students chorused.

Miss Capella smiled at her newest pupil. "Ruby, why don't you go and sit there next to Kristen Avonlea, the girl with the golden curls," she pointed to the seat on the other side of Kristen.

"Otherwise known as Goldilocks, Red Riding Hood," said Seth Goodman, who was the blacksmith's son.

Several of the boys snickered at his wit.

"Seth, we don't use nicknames in my class," Miss Capella reproved. "The girls have perfectly good names they were born with, and you will use them respectfully, or else I'll give you a demerit."

"Yes, Miss Capella," the boy, who was tall with a shock of curly blond hair, said. Then he made a face at Kristen when the fairy's back was turned, writing on the board.

Kristen made one back, then she turned to the new girl and held out a hand. "I'm Kristen Avonlea, but you can call me Kris. Welcome to Valley Way, Ruby."

"Hi. Isn't your mom the Healer?" Ruby asked, shaking her hand.

"Yes, her name's Belle and she just got married in June to Rumplestiltskin Gold, the sorcerer."

"And now she's got more brothers and sisters than you can shake a stick at, right, Kris?" Colleen grinned. "I'm Colleen MacKay. My dad owns the bookshop on the corner of Main and Parchment Way."

"And here's the real funny part, Lucas," hissed a girl with a pointed face called Tyra from behind them. "Both their dads are cripples. MacKay's got a crooked wrist and Gold's got a gimpy leg. That's why they're friends, 'cause the cripples' children stick together. What's your granny have, a hunchback?"

"Mind your own business, you cow!" Ruby said angrily.

"Shut your mouth, rat face!" Colleen ordered softly, glaring at the other girl.

"Yeah," Kristen growled. "You watch what you say about my father, before you end up like Arachne Miller, got it?"

Tyra gasped. "He wouldn't dare! My dad will have the witch hunters on him so fast-"

Kristen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. That'd be the day, Graves. Your papa's a grocer, I'll bet he knows as many witch hunters as he does princesses. Keep shooting off your fat mouth and I'll give you a fat lip to match your pointed nose."

"You do and I'm telling, shifter wench!" spat the other girl.

"Go ahead. If you can talk after," Kristen snapped.

"Girls, enough talking!" ordered Miss Capella. "Now it's time for me to call roll. When I call your name, raise your hand and say "Here,". . ."

Kristen turned around and whispered to Ruby, "Ignore her, Ruby. She's not worth the time it takes to rearrange her face."

Ruby smiled quietly. It seemed she had made a new friend. Or two.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Snow found her new teacher, Nova, was interesting, much better than the old fusty tutors Regina had hired. They had spent the morning learning about the movements of planets and tracking star patterns. Snow had only been taught basic astronomy, so this was new territory for her, and she liked learning new things. The other girls, once they learned she was Rennie's cousin, were friendly to her, and she ate lunch with a group of them in the school refectory.

All of them wanted to know about Rennie's mysterious boyfriend, and when she told them it was Baelfire Gold, several of them sighed enviously.

"Now there's a good looking hunk of a man!"

"Yeah, and so's his best buddy, James Shepherd," sighed a girl with waist-length red hair. "And he's still unattached."

"Someday I'm gonna sneak up on him when he's watching those sheep alone in the pasture and show him a good time!" boasted another girl with blond hair.

"Yeah right, Tanya!" hooted another. "You wish!"

Snow blushed and said nothing, quietly eating her sandwich. She wanted to tell them she had actually kissed hot James Shepherd, but didn't dare. What if it meant nothing to the handsome boy, and he was just being charming? What if he liked this blond girl better? Snow though Tanya was prettier than she was, and they'd grown up together.

She was here under an assumed name and a fugitive from Regina. How could she have any kind of relationship with that kind of beginning?

She ate her grapes and nibbled on her carrot sticks, thinking about the conjugation of stars in the sky. That was a safer subject than Charming.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Miss Lyra's classroom:_

Lyra fluttered about her classroom, her pretty multi-colored wings buzzing like a dragonfly's as she observed her students writing down what instrument they liked to play best. In her winged form she wore a beautiful shimmery purple dress and had lavender highlights in her golden hair. They matched her luminous violet eyes. Some of them she already knew, like her star pupil, Finn Gold, whose haunting solos on his flute could move her to tears and applause whenever he played.

She knew that she would have a tough time picking singers for the chorus this year, as there were many, especially in her class, who would try out. She hoped that Ariel Avonlea—or was she a Gold now?—would try out for one of the lead sopranos this year. Lyra could use her breathtaking voice in one of her musicals.

She ordered the students to put their pens down and then she changed herself to her wingless form and picked up her guitar case from behind her desk. "All right, class. Those of you who have musical instruments, get them from your lockers and come back in here. Those of you who don't, go and get the ones you prefer best from the anteroom next door. We're going to warm up with some scales and then play the piece _Dragon's Waltz_."

All of her students rose and went to fetch their instruments. She perched on her desk with her guitar on her lap and waited.

Once everyone had returned, she organized them like she would an orchestra, warmed up with a few light exercises, then said to Finn, "Master Gold, give us the opening chords, if you please . . ."

Finn put his flute to his lips and began to play, making his flute sing with the achingly high notes the song required.

Lyra smiled and struck the first notes on her guitar, thinking this would be a good year with all the talent she had to work with.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Jack was feeling rather annoyed by the time his class had recess, for it seemed that math period had droned on forever, and he couldn't wait to get outside and see Ray and talk about training Sunny, who was almost old enough to start wearing a sheepskin saddle pad.

He found Tom and Ray outside together and they met him beneath the willow tree, but before they could start talking about the filly, Tom spotted a familiar figure sitting beneath a small pine tree near the swing set.

"Hey, Junie!" he called. "How come she's over here, and not with the rest of Deneb's girls?" he asked his brother and Ray.

"I dunno. Let's go find out," Jack said.

The three boys walked over to where June was curled up, her arms around her knees. "Junie, what's up with—hey, are you crying?" Jack asked softly upon seeing the tears streaking her face.

"What's the matter?" asked Ray, frowning. He felt protective of the younger Gold siblings, especially the girls.

June sniffled and said, very softly, "They . . . they were calling me names, Jack. Like . . . Lightning Bug and Glow Worm and Firework Girl. I was telling Priscilla Pelham about the time I helped Nick and Nora when we were lost and she w-wanted to see me glow, so I lit up my hands and . . . and Bernard Miller started pointing at me and laughing and c-calling me June the Lightning Bug and then h-his friends did too and they were _laughing _at me. Jack, I wanna go home!"

"Hey, don't cry, June. Where are those no good brats?" Jack asked. "I'll teach them to make fun of my sister!"

"And I'll help you, Gold!" Ray asserted. "What kind of boys pick on girls?"

"Cowards and bullies," said Tom angrily.

"Show me 'em, Junie," Jack ordered, his eyes flashing. That anyone could tease his shy little sister made him furious.

"No, Jack, you'll get in trouble!" June hiccupped.

"Only if I hurt them. But even the fairies can't take demerits just for telling them off. Show me!"

June lifted her hand and pointed to several seven-year-old boys who were standing on the edge of the blacktop, passing a ball back and forth. "Over there."

"Okay. You stay here with Tom and I'll go give those little horse turds what for." He put Tom on June's knee and then started toward the group of younger boys. "Come on, Ray."

The boys looked up as the two older ones approached.

"Hey! Which one of you is Bernard Miller?" Jack demanded.

"Who wants to know?" demanded a good-looking boy that reminded Jack of Arachne.

"My name's Jack Gold. My sister tells me you've been making fun of her," Jack snapped, clenching his fists.

"Your sister the one who glows in the dark?" sneered Bernard. "Your whole family's weird, Gold."

"And _your_ whole family's stuck-up snots who need a good thrashing," Jack snarled.

"Yeah, you little cowards. Who picks on a girl half his size?" demanded Ray, glaring at the other boys, who shrank away from him.

Jack reached out and grabbed the smaller boy by the front tunic laces, lifting him up off the ground. "Listen, you arrogant piece of crap! If you ever call my sister names again and make her cry, I'm going to pound the living snot right out of you. I'm going to shove your teeth so far down your throat, you'll be talking out your ass, Miller. Got it?"

"And that goes for the rest of you little suck-ups too," Ray growled. He clenched a fist and hit it into his other hand for emphasis. "This'll be your face if you bother her again."

"If-if you do, they'll expel you, Gold!" Bernard said, quivering.

"Not before I make you drink all your meals through a straw," Jack shrugged. "And that's worth getting expelled for, Miller. So go ahead, keep saying stuff, you little butthole." He shook the other boy for emphasis.

Bernard's eyes went wide and he started sniffling. "No! Please! Don't hurt me!"

"Then keep away from June, or else Geppetto's gonna have to make you a new set of teeth," Jack threatened. Then he released the other boy and said coldly, "Now get, pond slime, before I decide to break a few as a reminder."

Bernard took off like a dragon was on his tail, along with the rest of his friends.

Jack returned to June and said, "Don't worry, Junie. If he says anything else, he's dead meat."

"And so are the rest of them," Ray added.

June beamed up at them. "Thanks, guys!"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Miss Scorpia's classroom:_

Pinocchio nudged Phillip and whispered, "Did you get problem number 5 yet, Phil? What's 2+8?"

Phillip put down his pencil and whispered over to his friend in the next seat. "10. Now we gotta stop talking, or else Miss Scorpia will make us stand in the corner and give us a demerit. Shh!"

Miss Scorpia was a strict no-nonsense teacher, she wore the traditional teaching robes of navy blue and had her hair wound about her head in a tight bun, no long flowing curls for this teacher, or spangly dresses. She had made it clear that her students were going to sit up straight, be quiet, and behave. No excuses.

She looked up from her desk, where she was outlining the rest of her curriculum, and said, "All right, children. Pencils down and hand in your papers when I call your names."

A little girl raised her hand. "What if we're not finished, ma'am?"

"Then give me what you've done, May. This is an assessment to see how much addition you know," Miss Scorpia said. "Make sure you've all written your names clearly on your papers."

She began to call out names.

When Phillip heard his name called, he went and handed in his paper. He thought he had done pretty well, he'd practiced his math with Bae, who was good at it, last night.

He turned to go back to his seat when Miss Scorpia called his name. "Phillip, you didn't write your name correctly."

Phillip turned to look at her. "I did so, ma'am."

Scorpia frowned. "Don't contradict me, young man. Your name is Phillip Avonlea."

"What's contradict mean?" asked Pinocchio.

"To answer me back," his teacher replied. She went to hand Phillip his paper back. "Write your name correctly, Master Avonlea."

Phillip shook his head. "My name's Phillip Gold, Miss Scorpia. My mom married Rumplestiltskin Gold and now she's his wife and we're his kids. He said so. He's my papa now, not my old one."

Scorpia scowled. "But in school, you must use your legal name, Phillip. Master Gold did not legally adopt you, so your name is Phillip _Avonlea_. Now write it."

Phillip shook his head stubbornly. "No. It's _Gold_."

Scorpia's mouth tightened. "Avonlea!"

Phillip glared at her. "Gold, ma'am. Rum's my papa now an' I'm his son." Why couldn't she get that?

"Avonlea!"

"Gold! Gold! _GOLD!_" Phillip yelled.

Suddenly all the other children were yelling back at him. "Avonlea! Avonlea!" They had gathered about Scorpia's desk and now were pushing and shoving each other and screaming.

"Stop it! Now you see what you've started!" Scorpia snapped, trying without success to get her class under control. She had a good mind to send this little troublemaker right to Blue's office.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was in the middle of taping John Middleton's finger and splinting it, he'd caught it in the door of his workshop when Rafe appeared in the doorway of her office.

"Mom, you'd better get over to the school. That new teacher Phillip's got made him stay after school for starting a riot or something and she won't let him go home till you come and talk to her about it."

"_What_? It's only the first day of school!" Belle exclaimed. "What on earth could he have done?"

"I don't know but that fairy is one of those cold witches, worse than old Vega," Rafe said. "She was making Phil write his name on her blackboard about a hundred times and he just learned how to write his name! How's that fair?"

Belle turned to her patient. "Your finger will be fine so long as you keep it in the splint for two weeks, John. Now, if you'll excuse me . . ."

"I understand, Healer Belle. Always trouble somewhere," said the tanner.

When he had left, Belle locked up Shoe House and told Rafe to go home. "I'll be along shortly." She headed down the street and wondered just what in the gods' name had happened now.

When she arrived at the brick schoolhouse, she found Miss Scorpia's classroom by asking Cassie for directions. When she entered the room, she saw Scorpia at her desk, marking papers, and her son writing _Phillip Avonlea_ on the chalkboard so many times her head swam. Belle frowned. Surely the little boy had been punished enough, whatever he had done. It was half-an-hour since school had ended.

"I came as quickly as I could, Miss Scorpia. What seems to be the trouble?"

Scorpia looked up at Belle, a pinched expression on her face, as if she'd been sucking sour jellies. "Why don't you ask Phillip, Healer Avonlea?"

"It's Gold," Belle corrected, then she turned to her son. "Phillip?"

Phillip turned around to face her. He bore a spectacular black eye.

Belle gasped. "Oh, sweetheart! Who did that?"

"Another kid," her son replied, scowling.

Belle knelt to peer at him. "Miss Scorpia, have you seen my son's face? He should have been sent to the infirmary."

"_She_ started it, Mom!" Phillip accused.

"What?" Belle cried, and looked back at Scorpia, who was radiating disapproval.

"And she said I'm not legal, whatever that means."

"Legal?" Belle repeated.

"And Bae's not my brother."

"Of course he is!"

"And Rum's not my papa and my name's not Phillip Gold!"

"Phillip _Avonlea_," Scorpia corrected smugly.

"There she goes again, Mom!"

Belle rose and faced her. "Miss Scorpia . . . couldn't you just call him Phillip Gold?"

Scorpia frowned. "I'm sorry, but the school requires we address the students by their legal names."

"Then let's go to another school!" Phillip cried. He was sick of this fairy telling him what he ought to be called, when he knew perfectly well he was a Gold now.

Belle drew the teacher off to one side and said reasonably, "I understand, Miss Scorpia, your need to address him legally as Avonlea, but you see, I'm trying to bring two families together here, and this is the first sign that I'm succeeding, so couldn't you . . . bend the rules a little and let him sign his name Gold?"

"But legally he's Avonlea," insisted the fairy.

Belle tried again. "But emotionally, it's more important that he feels he's a Gold."

"Avonlea," repeated the fairy stubbornly.

Belle's eyes flashed. "Gold."

"Avonlea."

"_Gold_."

"Avonlea."

"Gold! Gold! Gold!" Belle cried angrily.

"Watch out Mom, or she might give you a black eye!" Phillip warned.

Belle's eyes widened and she spun around and snapped, "Miss Scorpia, you're being unreasonable. My son is injured and I'm taking him home now."

"Mistress Avonlea, he's not done with his lines. I insist he finish them."

"It's Lady _Gold_, and don't you dare tell me _I'm_ not legal!" Belle said. "Phillip, get your things and let's go home."

"You can't just do that—"

"Oh yes I can, and if you try and stop me, I'll give _you_ a black eye!"

"I'm going to have to report you to my superior, the Blue Fairy!" Scorpia sniffed. "Undermining my authority!"

"You do that, sister. And I'll have my husband, who happens to be a member of the school board, arrange a meeting to discuss this tomorrow," Belle snapped. "Maybe _he_ can get through your stubborn skull better than I can. Come on, Phillip. I'll need to put a steak on that eye and bring the swelling down. Imagine, letting you get injured and not giving you proper medical care. Now _that's_ illegal . . ."

She took Phillip's hand and marched from the classroom, angrier than she'd been in a long time. Just wait until she told Rumple about this!

**A/N: So what did you think of Snow's talk with Rum? And how did you like me giving all the fairies star or constellation names? And Ruby coming to Valley Way? Won't she be a good friend for Kristen? And what do you think will happen between Scorpia, Blue, and the Golds? **


	44. Disagreements

**44**

**Disagreements**

_The Enchanted Forest_

_Regina's palace_

_a week previous:_

"What do you mean, you can't _find_ her?" Regina snapped at the assassin standing before her in her suite of rooms. She had left the Black Brother to get on with the murder while she went on a short progress to a few of her nobles' estates. Now she had returned and found the job unfinished. She tapped her long nails against her chin, her eyes icy. She wore a low cut black dress that showed off her trim figure to its advantage, making her look younger than her thirty-one years. Then again, the magic she wielded kept time from her . . . as long as the proper rites were practiced at moon dark. "I gave you her schedule, why is it not finished?"

"Because, gracious Majesty, I have not been able to locate her anywhere within the palace grounds," the assassin replied, looking uneasy, as well he might. Regina's temper was legendary. "I thought, perhaps, she had gone on a holiday . . ."

Regina laughed, her voice high and mocking. "Snow White? On a holiday? Don't be stupid! That milksop is kept close for one reason only . . . so I know where she is at all times. This should have been easy, you assured me you could do it within a matter of days. And now it's almost two weeks since I hired you, Brother, and she is still alive. Only now you don't know where she is!"

"Forgive me, Majesty. This . . . lapse is inexcusable, but I beg you, let me try again."

Regina folded her arms over her chest. "Hmm. I'm in a good mood today, so yes, I want her found. Search wherever you think, for however long it takes, but find her and complete your mission. Fail and your life is forfeit in her place. Have I made myself clear?"

The Brother nodded. "It shall be as you command." He bowed and left.

Regina watched him leave, wondering where her foolish stepdaughter had gotten to now? Had she decided to go visit the mining camp in the forest, like she sometimes did? Her nails clenched, digging into the palms of her hands. Her revenge was almost complete. It would take this last thing and then she would rule unopposed, the fairest of them all, queen by right of all she surveyed. All she had to do was kill one troublesome seventeen-year-old girl.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_The Dark Castle_

_Present day/time:_

The children were all sitting at the dining room table, working on their homework when Rumple arrived home from visiting with Beatrice Shepherd and loaning her more books from the castle library. He observed his children, a pleased smile lighting his face, until he saw Phillip, who was leaning back in his chair with a piece of raw steak over his left eye.

"So, how was everyone's first day at school?" he asked.

"Fine."

"Pretty good."

"I made a new friend, Papa," said Kristen. "Her name's Ruby, she just moved here."

"At least Vega didn't give us tons of homework the first day," said Rafe.

"Miss Lyra's starting to pick people for chorus. I think you should try out, Ari," Finn encouraged his sister. "You'll get in for sure."

"Maybe I will," Ariel said, she was still a little shy about singing in public.

"Miss Deneb's a good teacher, but some of the boys in my class were mean to me," June said softly.

"They were what?" Rumple demanded.

"They were teasing her and calling her names, Papa," Jack spoke up. "That snot Bernard Miller and whoever else he hangs out with. But Ray and I threatened to kick his backside, and she shouldn't have any more trouble. If you do, Junie, come tell me, and I'll fix him."

"Jack, you know fighting's not allowed in school," Belle began, coming into the room.

"I wasn't planning on doing anything to him there, Mom. I was gonna wait till he was walking home and pound his lights out then if he starts with her again," Jack said angrily.

"Jack, don't start anything. You know my rule," Rumple interjected.

"Yeah, I know," his son sighed. "Papa, can I go over Ray's house? I want to help him break Sunny."

"If you finish all your homework, then yes. But be back here in time for dinner."

"Okay, I will." Jack agreed.

"My day was terrible, Papa," Phillip volunteered.

"What happened to you?" Rumple asked, and gently picked up the steak to reveal his son's brilliant shiner. "Gods, Belle, what on earth?"

Finn, Nick, and Jack all peered at their younger brother.

"Whoa! Who did that?" Nick wanted to know.

"I hope the other kid looks worse," Jack whistled.

"Who was the other kid, Phil?" Finn demanded. "Do we need to find the little beast?"

"I don't know. But it was all Miss Scorpia's fault!" Phillip said. "She said I'm not a Gold."

"You most certainly are," Rumple said, his eyes flashing.

"But not legally, Rum," Belle interjected. "At least according to that traditionalist fairy. Let me tell you what went on today. Phillip, keep that steak on your eye." She went on to describe what had happened at the school, and her argument with Miss Scorpia. "She made me want to give _her_ a black eye, Rum! Especially once I found out that she had my son writing his name on the board before she should have sent him down to the nurse to get his eye looked at. Unbelievable!"

Rumple frowned. "Belle, calm down. If they want to play the legal card, I'll file the adoption paperwork tomorrow morning with Geppetto. It'll take a few months for it to go through and then come back here, and then we'll need to set a date with the magistrate, but in the meantime I'll talk with Blue and Scorpia and get this whole mess taken care of."

"Will I be able to write my name Phillip Gold?" asked Phillip.

"Yes, and so will any of you who wish to. I'm not going to let a stupid technicality keep you from using my name," Rumple said angrily. "Bloody fairies who think they're lawyers!"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, Rumple rode down to Geppetto's house and got the necessary forms and filled them out and sent them off to the king's city, where such things were reviewed and approved by the city officials. That done, he walked over to the school and Cassie let him into Blue's office.

The Blue Fairy was at her desk, going through some more paperwork, but she gave Rumple a smile when she saw him. "Hello, Archmagus Gold. I figured I'd be seeing you here this morning."

"You figured right, Blue. I'm here about that problem with my son's name the other day. I thought we could have a meeting here between you, me, and his teacher, Scorpia, is it?"

"It is. Let me fetch her and we can have one before school starts," Blue said. "Have a seat, Rumplestiltskin."

Rumple sat down and waited, outwardly calm, for the fairies to return.

Blue, who was tall and graceful, and like her name, wore a blue robe and dress ensemble with her hair piled atop her head, soon returned with Scorpia in tow. Blue shut the door to her office, Cassie would not disturb her then, and then she sat down at her desk and gestured for Scorpia to take the seat beside Rumple.

The fairy eyed him up and down before she said stiffly, "I am Miss Scorpia, Archmagus Gold."

Rumple nodded and took her hand and bowed lightly over it. "Charmed, dearie." Then he sat down and said, "I'd prefer it if we got right down to business. I know you two ladies are busy."

"Indeed," sniffed Scorpia. "What did you wish to discuss, Archmagus Gold?"

Rumple gave her a half-smile, and said, "Well, you see, there is that little matter of you refusing to let my son use my name."

Scorpia's eyes narrowed. "You don't seem to understand, Archmagus Gold, the children _must_ use their legal names in school. As I tried to explain to your wife—"

"Hold on, dearie. You didn't try and explain as much as tell my wife, and that's usually a mistake with Belle. Furthermore, I understand perfectly technicalities, I'm a sorcerer and we practically invented them. _However_, you can dispense with them, Scorpia, because I've recently filed adoption paperwork with the city giving me full legal custody and paternal rights over all of my stepchildren. They are now _my_ children, and as such, have the right to use _my_ name."

"But it hasn't gone before a magistrate!" Scorpia sputtered.

Rumple gave her a taut smile. "I pulled some strings, dearie. So . . . if you'd be so kind . . .allow my son to write his name Phillip Gold."

Scorpia looked over at Blue. "Surely that's irregular procedure," she sputtered. "And after what that little br-boy pulled yesterday, I feel it inappropriate to . . . to reward him for such disgusting behavior!"

"Scorpia, from what I understand of the incident, it could have been avoided if you'd simply taken the boy aside and explained to him why he needed to wait before putting Phillip Gold on his paper," Blue began. "He could have simply put Phillip, since he's the only one with that name in your class."

Rumple's eyes were narrowed. "Quite, Blue. Did you almost call my son a brat, Scorpia?"

Scorpia glared at him. "Well, he certainly behaved like one!"

"Who are you to judge that?" Rumple demanded.

"I am far more qualified than you, sir, who seems to have raised a bunch of wild things!"

"Scorpia!" Blue reproved. "You mustn't speak like that to Archmagus Gold! He's a valuable member of the school board!"

"_Excuse_ me? What wild things are you speaking of? My other children?" Rumple queried sharply.

Blue quickly said, "Now, Rumplestiltskin, you've settled the matter well enough for me, so why don't we just end this meeting and—"

"No, no, Blue. I want to hear what she has to say about my children," the sorcerer said, his words suddenly knife-edged. "Do go on, Mistress."

"_Now_ you've done it!" Blue groaned.

Scorpia crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, if you _insist . . ._ besides that disgraceful display of disobedience and backtalk given to me by your son Phillip, I also witnessed several other incidents involving other children of yours, Archmagus Gold. Such as when I was going by Miss Lyra's classroom, I heard your other son, the one who plays the flute, actually _correcting_ his teacher about playing! Such arrogance to assume—"

"You're talking about Finn?" Rumple specified. "And what did Miss Lyra have to say about that? Did she mind?"

"She _should_ have!"

"That's not what I asked, dearie. I asked _did she mind_?" Rumple repeated.

"No student should correct a teacher!" Scorpia snapped.

"Oh? Even when that teacher is mistaken?" asked Rumple dangerously. "You know, Scorpia, I teach my children too, and sometimes, not very often, but on occasion I'll make a mistake and one of my children will pick up on it. I'm very grateful then if they happen to correct me, so I don't make myself look like an idiot. You say Lyra didn't scold Finn about correcting her playing? Well then, dearie, maybe she was as grateful as I would have been."

"And _then_ I was passing by the refectory and I happened to overhear another of your sons refer to my colleague Vega as _old_ Vega and _Bat Wings_! Do you condone _that_ as well?" Scorpia scowled.

"Do you mean Rafe?" Rumple queried. "I'll admit, that was inappropriate, but he wasn't speaking of her that way to her face, but among children his own age, and let's face it, dearie, they give _all_ of us unflattering nicknames at one time or another. Once I was referred to as a slavedriver and a prison warden."

"And you permit such disrespect in your house?"

"Whether I do or not is hardly any of your business," Rumple said coldly. "What should concern you is the fair treatment of your students. Now, let me ask _you_ something, Scorpia. When Phillip walks in the door of your classroom today, will he be treated fairly by you? Or will you attempt to harass him because you've labeled him a troublemaker?"

"What are you implying, sir?"

"I'm not implying anything. All I want is an answer to my question."

"Your son shall receive the treatment he's earned from me, Archmagus Gold," she declared fiercely.

Rumple stood up. Then he turned to Blue and said, "I want Phillip out of there, Blue. Today. No child of mine is going to be subject to this . . . tyrant's harassment."

"Rumplestiltskin . . ." Blue said, her voice conciliatory.

"Tyrant, am I? You have no idea how those children test your patience, especially yours!" Scorpia flared.

"Scorpia!" gasped Blue.

"Don't I?" Rumple said, his voice soft but with steel in it. "I have eighteen children, madam, and no one knows better how they test you. And my children are no better or worse than anyone else's here." He stabbed a finger at her. "_You_, Mistress Scorpia, are biased because my son dared to question your authority and caused you to lose control over your classroom. And now you'll hold that against him for the rest of the year. Well, I won't let that happen. Blue, I'm keeping Phillip home until you find a suitable replacement for first grade. Someone who actually _likes_ children."

"Are you going to let this—this _magician_ speak to you that way?" Scorpia demanded of Blue.

Blue shook her head. "Forgive her, Archmagus, she's always had a problem with her temper . . .

"_I_ have a problem?" Scorpia growled. "This two-bit conjurer thinks he can just—"

"This two-bit conjurer is leaving now, Blue. Before he hexes the spit out of the despot fairy," Rumple said, his voice colder than winter frost. "And one more thing, Scorpia. You might learn far more if you stopped eavesdropping. Blue, write me when you've resolved this matter. Until then, my son stays home with me." Then he strode from the office, a sudden hot wind swirling about him that blew the papers right off Cassiopeia's desk and onto the floor.

As he shut the outer door to the office, he heard Blue's voice, scolding her tyrant teacher for her unbending attitude.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

A week had passed since Rumple's conversation with the Blue Fairy and Scorpia, and so far Blue had not contacted him about a replacement teacher. While Phillip didn't object to staying home with him and Clary, Rumple felt he needed to be with children his own age, but so far no solution to his dilemma had presented itself.

The other children continued to attend school, and none of them had any problems with their teachers.

Pinocchio, who visited Phillip the next weekend, was rather envious of Phillip being allowed to stay at home, and said, "Would Master Gold adopt me too if I asked? Then we could both stay here and play together."

"Pinocchio!" Phillip gasped. "You couldn't do that! Then your papa would be all alone, 'cause when somebody adopts you it means you live with them."

"Oh. I guess you're right. I didn't think about that. I don't want to live here, least not all the time."

"We wouldn't know where to put you anyway, unless you slept on the floor. Mary Margaret's using our extra guest room," Phillip said practically. "Hey, I almost forgot. My birthday's in three days and you're invited to my party."

"Really? What're you doing for it?"

"Umm . . . we'll have some cool games to play and my sisters will do a show with Rajah and Baron and my papa's hiring a pony to ride on and Ivy and Mom are going to bake the cake and make all the food. It'll be fun."

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"I dunno. You know what I like."

Pinocchio looked thoughtful. "Okay. I'll think about it."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The day of Phillip's party dawned bright and sunny, and by midafternoon, the festivities were well underway. Jack and Ray were running the pony ride, using Ray's stable pony and letting the ten children from the village, all of whom were in Phillip's class at school, take turns riding the shaggy cream colored pony around the paddock.

Rafe had a dart game going on, where the children threw wooden darts at a board of balloons. When they popped one, there was a number on a paper behind it, and the number referred to what prize they would get. Bae had carved a bunch of tiny wooden animals and Aurora had spun soft thread that she made into colorful yarn "mice" and the children would get one of them for a prize.

Kristen, Colleen, and Ruby starred in _The Three Girls and Baron_ show, where Kristen and her friends dressed in circus-style costumes and did tricks with Baron, such as making him sit up and beg, "count" to ten, balance a ball on his nose, Colleen did four handsprings right over him, and Ruby rode him around a ring they had set up and through a hoop. Then the children who wished to could come up and have him shake their hand or pet him.

Jasmine had a similar type of act with Rajah, with her helpers, Nick and Nora. She made the tiger "spell" his name using alphabet blocks of Clary's, by poking the appropriate one when Nick and Nora lined them up. She had Rajah jump on three large wooden blocks about half her height, and at a prearranged signal, Rumple caused the center block to appear as though it were on fire, though it was a simple illusion. As the children oohed and ahhed, Jasmine had Rajah jump through the "ring" of fire and land on the ground next to her, where he bowed to the audience.

Then Tom and Puss came out and leaped upon the tiger's back, and Rajah ran about the blocks, weaving in and out, and finally jumping on top of one, where he sat and let Puss and Tom perch atop his head like a statue.

For a finale, Jasmine had Rajah "wave" goodbye to the audience and give a half-roar, then she rode him back behind the rose arbor.

Elaina, Rennie, and Ivy ran a face-painting booth and painted colorful faces on all the children, while Snow and Belle made rose bouquets and crowns for the girls and gave each of them one. Jeff and Bae made popcorn and taffy and Jeff had a taffy pulling contest, and whoever was the winner with the longest taffy got a gigantic bag of candy, as well as the taffy they had pulled.

There was pin-the-tail-on-the-dragon and a sack race called Run Rabbit Run, where the sacks had tails like cottontail rabbits and were white (they were actually Ivy's old flour sacks) and the prize for winning those was a stuffed rabbit that hopped or a stuffed dragon that flew on command, both enchanted courtesy of Rumplestiltskin.

There was also all kinds of finger foods and snacks, from popcorn and pretzels to candy necklaces, sausages-in-a-blanket, fried chicken wings, and mini beef pot pies. There were fruit skewers and potato puff pastries, plus tiny strawberry and blueberry tarts. There was a fountain of lemonade and another of apple cider which Ariel presided over.

Children ran all over the backyard, screeching and laughing, it was like ten market days all rolled into one, and Phillip and Pinocchio found an old push cart in the barn and tied Sweetie to it with some clothesline and took turns having the little unicorn pull them across the yard, since the little filly had grown quite a bit and was actually stronger than a regular horse.

Belle came inside to get the cake, which she and Ivy had made, it was a three-layer chocolate with vanilla pudding inbetween the layers and dark chocolate frosting on the outside with _Happy 7th Birthday Phillip_ written on it in blue icing.

Rumple had also headed inside, going upstairs to snag one of his pain potions, since his leg was bothering him, which probably meant it was due to storm again soon. As he was coming out of his bedroom and heading back downstairs to help Belle cut the cake and have Phillip blow out the candles while they all sang happy birthday, he heard the sound of someone sniffling and sobbing softly.

He poked his head into the playroom, which was empty save for a little girl, a blond-haired child wearing a cute pink dress, she looked about five, and was crying softly. "Hello, dearie. What are you doing up here by yourself?" he asked gently, he didn't recognize her but assumed she was one of the village children come here with an older sibling.

The little girl looked up at him, wiping her eyes, and cried, "Oh, sir! I went to find the bathroom and when I came out I-I got lost and . . . and . . ."

"Ah. Come with me, dearie, I'll show you how to get out of here. It can be a little confusing, can't it?" He held out a hand and said, "How do you do? I'm Rum, Phillip's papa."

"My name's Jane," the little girl said, running over to shake his hand.

"Follow me, Jane," he said, and took the child's hand and started to walk down the hall and to the stairs, using his cane.

Jane eyed it and said artlessly, "Did you fall and hurt yourself?"

"A long time ago, dearie," the sorcerer grinned down at her. "It's an old injury and sometimes it bothers me when it's about to rain."

As they reached the top of the staircase, they heard a woman's clear contralto calling, "Jane! Jane, dear, where are you?"

"I'm here! With Phillp's daddy!" Jane yelled down the stairs.

"Oh, there you are!" exclaimed a dark-haired woman in a smart blue skirt and jacket carrying a carpetbag. She had twinkling blue eyes and she gazed up the stairs at Rumple and the little girl and smiled. "Hello, Rumple!"

Rumple blinked and cried, "Well, if it isn't my old friend, Mary Poppins! Is this little one yours?" He began to limp slowly down the stairs, with Jane skipping along next to him.

Mary beamed up at him. "No, I'm still a nanny, Rum. This is Jane Banks, my current charge. I brought her with me for a week or two because her family's come down with measles and they didn't want her exposed to them. Blue was going to come to the party, but she had to cancel at the last minute and she told me to go instead with Janie, so here I am!"

"It's good to see you, Mary!" Rumple said, coming over to hug her. "You haven't changed a bit since I saw you three years ago at the harvest fair."

"Well, you know us quarter-fairies, Rum. We don't age like normal humans, any more than you magic-born do after we're grown," Mary laughed. "Congratulations on your marriage. I always said you needed a dozen kids."

"And now I have that and more!" Rumple said. "Have you and Bert tied the knot yet, dearie?"

"Not yet, but soon," Mary said. "Next July, I think. How's your family, Rum? When I last saw them, your youngest was barely walking."

"Clary's four now," Rum told her. He knelt and asked Jane, "How old are you?"

"I turned five last Tuesday," Jane said.

"Lovely! How would you like to play with Clary, my little girl?" Rumple asked. "I think she's over here, beside the picnic table near the garden with her tea set."

"Yes, please, Rumple, sir."

"Come along then," Rumple said and he led them outside to where Clary was playing with her dolls. "Clary, say hello to my friend Mary and Jane."

Clary turned around and gave them a proper little curtsey. "Hi! You wanna play tea party with me?"

"I'd love to!" Jane cried and ran to sit on the picnic bench.

"Clary, you probably don't remember me, but I knew you when you were a little girl," Mary said, kneeling and shaking her hand. "And now you're almost all grown-up. Oh, Rum, she's precious!"

"I'm papa's princess!" Clary declared.

"I'll just bet you are," Mary chuckled.

"You need about a dozen yourself," Rumple teased.

"You forget, we fairy-bloods don't have many children like you do," Mary said, sighing. "But I wouldn't mind one or two like her." She stood up and said, "Jane, you play with Clary and let me talk to Rumple a little, all right?"

"Sure, Mary!" Jane said. She looked at Clary. "Now you have to introduce me to your dolls. What's her name?"

"Her name's Mopsy, and this one's Chuckles . . ."

Mary led Rumple a little ways away and said, "Blue contacted me a week ago and told me about the little problem you were having at school. I warned her before term started when Capella told me that Scorpia was going to teach the little ones that wasn't a wise decision, but that was up to her."

"That . . ._woman_ . . . I can't say what I'd really call her in front of the children . . . does not belong within ten yards of a child, Mary!" Rumple said softly, his eyes flashing.

"I know that. So when Blue told me of the time she was having replacing her . . . I volunteered to teach for the year," said Mary. "I figured a quarter-fairy was better than no fairy."

"Mary, you're a miracle!" Rumple said happily. "Now Phillip can go back to school and be with kids his own age and I don't have to worry about some hag bullying him because he wants to sign his name Phillip Gold."

"I don't care if he wants to call himself Peter Pumpkin-eater, so long as he learns his letters and numbers and all that," Mary grinned. "I cannot _believe _she got into a fight with a seven-year-old over a name! How perfectly silly!"

"_My_ thoughts exactly! Now, come over here and meet Belle, my wife," Rumple said, taking her over to where Belle was standing beside the cake, putting candles in it.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Phillip got lots of presents, like a carved wooden sword from Bae and a small child-sized bow and arrows with a quiver from Rafe. Aurora made a set of six different spinner mice plus a box to put them in. Jack gave him a new horse to add to his collection, a rearing white destrier, and Ray supplied the toy knight to ride on it. Elaina gave him a set of face paint, saying that these he could use to play Painted Warriors with. Finn had carved him a small version of his flute and Ivy made him his favorite butterscotch candies and toffee. Snow made him a dream pillow, stuffed with fragrant herbs that ensured good dreams with a cat on it. Jefferson gave him a painted wooden shield with the Gold "crest" on it. From Belle and Rumple was a toy castle, with real working doors and magical lights and the rest of the girls in the family supplied the people to go inside it. Pinocchio gave him a wooden dragon marionette, made by Geppetto. Peter gave him a slingshot with wooden bullets, but Belle told Phillip that he wasn't to shoot it inside the castle or at anyone, or else she would take it away. From Nick there was a marble board game where you had to roll a marble through a wooden obstacle course and race against another player. Mary and Jane gave him a little magical chalkboard with colored chalk, it erased itself at a word and animated any drawings put on it. The other children gave him small gifts, like tin whistles and candy, toy soldiers, and a new vest and a scarf and gloves for winter.

All in all it was a wonderful birthday, and those who had attended it talked about the wonderful entertainment, food, and prizes for weeks afterward. And all the children couldn't wait to go to another birthday up at the Dark Castle.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On the first week in October was Rennie's birthday, and three weeks after that was Rumple's, on October 31st. Belle wanted to make Rennie a special meal for her birthday, she would be seventeen, and she decided to go to the village and shop for a few things for the dinner she wanted to make.

She managed to put in an order at Pelham's bakery for some chocolate-filled pastries she knew Rennie loved, and asked the butcher to have a good cut of a crown roast beef. Then she was going to Jared's jewelry store to look at a pair of earrings when she felt the world revolve around her. She had to stop and lean against a building until the vertigo passed.

_Maybe I'd better go and lie down for a bit at Shoe House,_ she thought, putting a hand to her head. Surely the dizziness would pass if she rested.

She made her way toward her old place of residence, managing to reach the front door and fumble for her key before another wave of vertigo caught her and she fell to the ground, the world spinning like a top.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The children had just arrived home from school, and had just gotten themselves a snack from the kitchen, for they were starving, when the castle doors burst open and Rumplestiltskin strode through them, carrying Belle in his arms.

"Papa, what's wrong with Mom?" Bae asked, alarmed. Belle was pasty white, her dark curls hanging limply across her forehead.

"She fainted," Rumple answered shortly, and started to climb the stairs.

All the other children gasped.

"Rumple, put me down!" Belle ordered hoarsely. "You'll hurt yourself carrying me up all those stairs. I can walk."

"Like hell, dearie! You were _passed_ _out_ on the porch of Shoe House. You're lucky Archie came by and saw you lying there and came and got me," Rumple half-shouted.

"I'm okay. The vertigo's gone now, so just put me down."

"Why? So you can fall down again? Talk sense, for the gods' sake!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Rumplestiltskin!" Belle snapped. "I'm not some—some damsel in distress."

"No, you're a damn stubborn woman who keeps thinking she can do it all," her husband growled. "Until something like this happens. Once we get upstairs you're going to rest until I tell you to get up, or else I'll . . . I'll tie you to the damn bed!"

Rumple was so agitated and terrified for Belle's wellbeing that he was shouting without realizing it.

Below them, their children exchanged horrified glances, because they had never heard their father lose his temper that way and their mother's condition scared them, as did the way they were yelling at each other.

Nick stared after them and whispered to Nora, "They're arguing with each other. Does that mean they're gonna get a divorce?"

Kristen went pale upon hearing that and she rose to her feet and cried, "I . . . I'm going over to Ruby's house!" Then she bolted from the castle like a dragon was after her, choking back sobs. It had happened just as she had feared. They were fighting, like her first parents had, and she knew all too well how it would end, with broken promises and tears.

"Hush, Nick!" Rennie said. "Of course they won't. They're just having a little disagreement."

"But Papa was _yelling_," whimpered June. "He never yells."

"Once he did," Ivy whispered, hugging her. "Back when he was cursed."

Jefferson came in from the yard, where he had been practicing some sword moves. "What's going on?"

Snow told him, then added, "And Kristen ran off to Ruby's house. I think their quarrel really upset her, Jeff."

"Yeah, look kids, Rum doesn't mean to scare you, he's just upset over your mom," Jefferson began. "Why don't you just . . . start doing your homework or whatever while I go and see if there's something I can do to help?"

He turned and climbed the stairs, praying the right words to calm things down came to him. It was rare that Rum lost his temper, and Jeff hoped he could soothe the sorcerer before his magic reacted to his state of mind and something happened that he'd regret.


	45. Cry Wolf

**45**

**Cry Wolf**

When Jefferson came up the stairs and headed down the hall, he was amazed to hear silence, instead of the quarreling he'd feared. But then he heard the sound of someone swearing softly and then something splintering, it reminded him of the times he'd gotten involved in tavern brawls with members of his merc company and chairs and tables had gotten smashed to kindling.

What in hell was going on? Jeff wondered, following the sound, not to Rumple and Belle's bedroom, as he'd feared, but to the castle library. He half-opened the door to see his best friend ripping books off the shelves, the place looked like a bomb had hit it, there were pages fluttering like confetti in the air and books flying through the air like missiles and in the midst of the literary devastation was Rumplestiltskin, swearing a blue streak, and batting books with his cane, like a troll gone amok.

Jeff just stared in disbelief. To see the normally controlled sorcerer half-mad like this caused him to flinch in pain, knowing that Rumple had to be hurting badly to go on a rampage like this, especially in his precious library. It was like watching a priest desecrate his own altar.

"Rum? Hey, buddy, what are you doing?" he called cautiously from the doorway.

The sorcerer did not respond for a few moments, seemingly intent on stripping the shelves bare of his collection of leatherbound rare volumes, snarling in an increasingly more frantic voice, "Hells and gods, where is it? Why can't I find what I need?"

"Uh, Rum? Maybe you'd find what you're looking for easier if you weren't . . . uh . . . trashing the place?" Jeff suggested.

Rumple jerked his head up, and turned to look at his friend. His brown eyes were wide with fear and desolation. "Jeff? I . . . I can't find it," he said, shaking his head.

"Can't find what, Rum?"

"Anything here to help her," Rumple said, sounding defeated and exhausted. "I put her to bed, and she's asleep, and I came here to look for a book . . . something that could tell me how to help her with this blasted pregnancy . . . but there's _nothing_ here! _Nothing_!"

At his grief-stricken cry, more books crawled off the shelves and fell onto the floor, lying on the floor like offerings to a forgotten god. And the man who worshipped them looked about to fall apart.

Jeff came into the room then, thinking his friend needed a stiff drink more than any merc who'd just come off a battlefield. "Rum, you need to calm down, okay? You . . . do you even know what you're doing?"

"Of course I know what I'm doing, Jefferson! I'm looking for a cure for her, but I can't find one, damn it!" Rumple cried.

"How . . . how do you know what's in all these books when you haven't even looked at them?" his friend queried, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't need to look, Jeff. My magic was doing that, but . . . it can't find what I need. Not all the books in my library can help me." He turned away, his shoulders slumping. "Do you know what it feels like to see someone you love grow sicker every day, and all your precious power and knowledge is useless to prevent it? Belle seems to have the life drained out of her, little by little, and it's my fault! It's my child she's carrying!"

"Hey," Jeff said softly, coming up and putting a hand on Rumple's shoulder. "Don't talk like that. Belle wants this child as much as you."

"But it's killing her," Rumple protested.

"Is that what she said was happening?"

"She doesn't have to. I've got eyes, I'm not dumb! I can see she's more weak and exhausted every week that passes. There's something . . . not right there, Jeff. She's a Healer, I think she knows it, but she refuses to admit it. And it . . . scares me, Jeff. The way I've never been in all my life. If I lose her, I'll go insane."

"You won't, buddy. Belle's a strong woman, and she'll come through this just fine."

"Women die in childbirth, Jeff. You know it as well as I do," Rumple said. "Right now I could just hex myself for doing that to her."

Jefferson sighed. "Now how's that going to help anything? If Belle heard what you just said, she'd beat you with your cane."

"I'd deserve it."

"Stop feeling guilty. What's done is done. You need a good shot of whiskey, old friend."

"I don't drink, and you know why."

"One shot not's going to make your magic go nuts, buddy. Trust me. It takes a few to make me even tipsy," Jeff said.

"I don't think my answers are going to be found in a bottle of Golden Boar, Jeff."

"Maybe they're not to be found in a book either."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe you'd do better looking about for a midwife or someone who knows something about expecting mothers."

"Yes . . . I . . . I don't know why I didn't think of that before. Gods, I'm such an idiot!"

"Hey, you're wound up tighter than a skein of knotted yarn. It's hard to think straight when you're afraid Belle's going to die or something. It's easier for me, I'm not the one with the sick wife."

"I knew there was a reason I was your friend, Jeff," Rumple laughed softly. "When I start to lose it, you're there to pull me back down to earth."

"This time. I'm sorry I wasn't there all those years ago, if I had been, maybe you'd never have taken up that dagger," his friend said regretfully.

"Jeff, there's no sense in saying 'what if'. Maybe I needed to learn magic's price before I could become what I am now." He massaged his temples and said, glancing around at the wreckage he'd created, "Ah, hells! The damn room looks like a hurricane just blew through here."

"You went a little crazy for a minute there, buddy."

"Mmm . . ." Rumple clapped his hands and a sudden warm wind blew through the room.

It picked up the books and returned them to their shelves, mending the torn pages and bindings and leaving all as it had been before the distraught sorcerer had entered the library.

Jeff whistled. "Neat trick, Rum! I could've used that a few times after a tavern brawl."

His friend quirked a slight smile at that. "What magic can do, it can undo. For a price."

Then he leaned against a bookcase, rubbing his leg ruefully.

"You okay?"

"No. And I won't be until I find some help for Belle," Rumple said honestly. He limped over to a cozy chair and sat down. "Maybe I will have that shot of whiskey after all, Jeff. But only one."

"Coming right up, buddy. Think I'll join you," his best friend said. He departed the library, heading to the den to grab two shot glasses and the bottle of whiskey.

After he had gone, Rumple put his head in his hands and wept, but only for the drawing of three breaths. His childhood conditioning, as he'd told Myrnin, still held, and though his mind knew the release of tears would also release the terrible knot of tension within him, he didn't permit himself the luxury then. He needed to be strong for Belle. For his children. Maybe after a solution was found, he could find solace in tears. But not yet.

He quickly wiped his eyes on a handkerchief embroidered by his beloved wife, it bore a stylized gold R on it in one corner, a spinning wheel in another, and the third had a chipped porcelain white and blue cup. Then he tucked the square back in his pocket.

_Belle, I will find a way to help you get better. Someway, somehow, I will find one. For I could not bear to see you wither and die, like a rose blighted. No, sweetheart, we're supposed to grow old together, you and I, and by all the magic within me, we shall._

Jeff returned bearing two small glasses and a bottle. He poured a measure of the amber liquid into each one and handed one to Rumple.

Rumple sniffed it, grimaced, and sipped it cautiously. The fiery liquid burned the back of his throat and he choked. "Gods, how do you stand this stuff?"

Jeff grinned. "Rum, it's not wine. You don't sip it," he smirked. "Watch me and I'll show you how it's done." He tossed the shot back with the ease of long practice.

"Oh. It's sort of like taking medicine then."

"Not really, but it makes some people feel better after."

Rumple nodded, and imitated Jefferson. Then he frowned. "Hells, that stuff burns like fire."

"Only the first time. After that they go down easier."

"If you say so," the sorcerer sighed.

Jeff poured himself another, but when he looked at Rumple, the sorcerer shook his head.

"The last thing I need is to be staggering about my castle, drunk off my ass. My kids would have nightmares."

"Speaking of kids . . . they were kind of scared when you brought Belle home, Rum. A few of them thought you two were fighting and Kristen ran off to her friend Ruby's house, I think she was really upset when she heard you and Belle yelling at each other."

Rumple groaned. "I really screwed up, Jeff. I'll need to talk to them about it. Especially Kristen. She came from a family where her parents fought all the time and she probably misunderstood what she saw."

"They're kids, Rum. You can't expect them to act like an adult would. Especially when some of them come from backgrounds like yours. I mean, that's what parents are for, to give them advice and comfort."

"The good ones are."

"And you're a great one, Rum. Don't ever think you're not. Those kids love you to pieces, even if you do screw up sometimes. And Belle would be the first to tell you you're the best husband."

"Do you want something, Jeff? Like a loan?" Rum queried, the old sparkle back in his eyes.

"No! I'm trying to make you feel better, you conniving conjurer!" Jeff mock-growled.

"I do feel better. A bit," he admitted.

"Want another shot?"

"You want to deal with a sorcerer with a hangover?"

"Hell, no! Forget I asked," Jefferson said hastily.

Rumple chuckled. "Done. I'd better go and make sure my kids are okay. Would you mind watching them while I fetch Kristen home?"

"No. That's what I'm here for, buddy. To help you." He tucked the bottle of whiskey under his arm. "Just let me put this away. Otherwise you might end up with a bunch of drunk kids, and that would be a real disaster."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

When Kristen ran out of the castle and down the hill, she felt like she was being chased by the demons of her past. The sound of voices raised in anger hounded her, snapping at her heels like stray dogs, as she recalled all the many times she had heard her parents, Jake and Lisle, fighting. They had never come to blows, but their words tore strips off each other worse than any whip. They injured their daughter as well, who watched them argue and wondered how it was that two people who had once loved each other now detested each other so fiercely, and wept that love was lost between them, and wondered if it were somehow her fault.

Hearing Rumple raise his voice, and Belle snap back at him, roused the old fear in her mind, and once roused it consumed her. In a panic she had run, not wanting to stay and listen to the shouting, and the first place she thought of to run to was Ruby's house.

She had met Ruby's grandmother, Granny Lucas, one day after school, and had liked the old woman immediately. Ruby had told her that Granny was very wise and had been the wisewoman and herbalist in her village, before they'd moved to Valley Way. Ruby had said they had to move, but had never said why. Kristen didn't want to press her, and so she'd not pried. She knew what it was like to have a past you'd rather forget.

Granny had said she was welcome to come over anytime, that she was happy Ruby had found a nice well-mannered girl to play with, and she didn't seem to mind that Kristen had shifter magic or that her father was a sorcerer. "I've known a few magic workers in my time, girl, some good and some bad, and I'm not afraid of them."

When Kristen arrived at Granny's small cottage, which was set on the edge of the village, and back from the road, surrounded by a grove of pine and rowan trees, she was out of breath and her eyes were stinging with tears. She rapped two times on the door and waited for a voice to call, "Come in," before she shoved open the painted green door and burst inside the small cottage, which was, like most of the villagers' houses, one large room with a loft and a partition dividing it for a bedroom for Granny, as Ruby slept up in the loft.

Bunches of strands of onions and garlic bulbs hung suspended from the ceiling, as well as dried herbs of various kinds. There was a small oaken table and two benches in the kitchen area, near the stove, and a large hutch which had some dishes upon it and a good ceramic bowl. There also rested a marble mortar and pestle and in front of the fireplace were two chairs with cushions on it. The fireplace mantle boasted a real hand-carved wooden clock and two brass candlesticks. The window that faced the road had cheerful curtains of paisley and a potted geranium on the sill. A braided rag rug lay on the floor, which had been scrubbed till it shone.

Ruby's cape hung on a hook and so did Granny's worn green one.

Ruby looked up as Kristen came in, she was sitting at the table with a bowl of what looked like pea soup and a slice of dark bread. "Kris! I thought you'd be up at the castle eating dinner with your family."

"We—we haven't had dinner yet," Kristen said, her voice quivering.

"Has something happened, child?" asked Granny kindly, she was sitting on the opposite side of Ruby, with her long white hair tucked under a soft gray cap.

Kristen nodded miserably, fighting back tears.

"Well, why don't you sit here and tell us about it?" Granny said softly. "You're welcome to some soup and bread with honey if you want."

"No thanks. I'm not hungry," the blond-haired girl whispered. She slipped onto the bench next to Ruby. "I don't know where to start."

"It's best to start at the beginning, _liebchen_," said Granny.

Kristen smiled at the old mode of address, which her parents had called her also, as it was the dialect in the kingdom where they had both come from, and it appeared Granny had as well. "Okay. We were all doing our homework at the table, like always, when the front doors blow open, like they were hit by a storm wind, only there's no storm, just Papa with Mom in his arms, and he said she fainted . . ."

As she spoke, the whole story tumbled out of her, how Rumple had shouted at Belle as he carried her up the stairs, and Belle had snapped back at him and how she couldn't bear it if they started fighting like Jake and Lisle had always done. "So I . . . I just . . . had to get away and I ran . . . and came here because you said I could," Kristen sniffled. "I . . . I don't want them to . . .get a divorce, Granny! Mom promised this marriage would be different, so why are they fighting?"

"_Liebchen,_ I doubt very much that one argument will end in them splitting up," Granny said. "Very often grown-ups quarrel like you children and then mend things soon after. You say this is the first time they've had a quarrel?"

"That I know of."

"Then I don't think you have to worry about divorce, Kris. I think you're just afraid that this marriage will end like your other parents' did that you read more into that than you should have," Granny said, patting her on arm.

"But Papa was _yelling_," Kristen said. "And he . . . never yells. Not like that."

"Maybe he was scared," Ruby broke in.

"Huh?" Kristen eyed her in puzzlement.

"Once when I was little, just walking, I didn't listen to my papa and I wandered into the woods around our cottage and got lost. But only for a little while, till he found me. And when he did he yelled at me so loud I cried and then he hugged me and said I'd scared him half to death by wandering away like that. So maybe your papa was scared like mine was."

"Ruby's right. That could be the reason," Granny nodded. "Sometimes when men get frightened, they yell to cover up their fear. Women too on occasion."

"Then he wasn't angry with Mom?"

"From what you just told me, _liebchen,_ I think he was more anxious and worried than anything else," Granny said. "After all, he'd just found his wife passed out in the street. Anything might have happened to her."

Slowly, Kristen felt the panic that had possessed her start to leave her. Now that she had time to think on it, she recalled the words Belle and Rumple had exchanged, and though spoken in a loud tone, were not the bitter hurtful ones exchanged between Jake and Lisle. Now she felt foolish for running away, just like a coward.

"Why don't you have some soup, Kristen?" Granny invited again. "It'll feel better for you to have something in your belly, and my soup's not half bad, if I do say so myself."

"Okay."

Granny set a large bowl of pea soup before her, which had chunks of bacon in it as well as onions, carrots, and spices. She also gave her a glass of water and a large slab of dark brown bread slathered with honey. Kristen loved bread and honey, in that she was much like her bear.

She began to eat hungrily, and had just finished the entire bowl and the piece of bread when Ruby looked out the window and said, "Look, it's almost dark out. See the stars?"

Kristen paused with her glass halfway to her mouth. "Oh no! How can I walk back to the castle in the dark by myself? I didn't realize it was so late."

"Your parents will be worried, child," Granny murmured. "Let me get my cape and I'll escort you back up the hill."

But before either of them could even rise from the table, there came a sharp pounding on the door of the cottage.

Granny rose and answered it, saying, "Ah, and you must be Kristen's papa."

"Is she here then?" Rumple asked. "I was told she came here, but it's getting late and she's not home yet. It's not safe for a child after dark, even this close to the castle. Forgive me, Mistress Lucas, my name is Rumplestiltskin Gold."

"Come in, Master Gold," Granny said, stepping back to let him inside.

As soon as he entered the house, having to duck a little to avoid hitting his head on the low lintel, Kristen sprang to her feet and ran over to him. "Papa! I'm sorry I ran away!" She threw her arms around his middle and clung to him, breathing in the familiar scent of cool mint and sandalwood, crying softly.

Rumple's arms came around her automatically and he crushed the golden-haired girl to him. "It's all right, dearie. I'm sorry I frightened you with my bellowing. I didn't mean to, I was just . . ."

"W-Were you scared about Mom?" Kristen asked, snuggling closer to him.

"Yes, when I found her lying there, I was afraid she'd hurt herself," Rumple said. He stroked Kristen's curls soothingly.

"Then you . . . you won't . . ."

"She was afraid you'd get a divorce," Ruby supplied when it looked like Kristen wasn't able to get the words out.

Rumple knelt and took his daughter by the shoulders, saying softly, "Never think that! I love your mother more than my life, and I'd sooner cut off my arm than leave her. I was just worried and upset, Kris. Don't you remember what we talked about that day after the picnic? And I told you that your mother and I might quarrel a little but we'd always make up afterwards? That I'd never have a marriage like the one your other parents had?"

Kristen did recall that now and whispered. "I forgot."

"So did I, dearie. I ought to know better and watch what I say and how I say it."

"Sometimes fear overcomes the best of us, Master Gold," Granny said quietly. Watching the sorcerer and Kristen together alleviated some of the concern she'd had about sending the girl back to the castle with two quarreling adults. She saw that she had been correct in her assessment, and that the man standing before her was only consumed with worry for those he cared about.

Rumple stood, one arm still hugging his daughter and said, "That's the gods' honest truth. Thank you for taking care of my daughter," he held out his hand.

Granny clasped it firmly.

An odd expression crossed Rumplestiltskin's face.

Granny pulled away, cursing herself for a fool. She should have known better than to touch a sorcerer. They always knew once she had done that.

Before she could speak, Rumple did. "Why didn't you tell me you were a lupin?"

Granny paled and Ruby gasped. "You must be mistaken," she said, attempting to cover.

Rumple shook his head. "You know I'm not. I can sense magic when I touch someone, and I know the feel of a curse when I do so. It's part of my gift."

"And what will you do now that you know?" Granny demanded sharply. "Will you gather your neighbors and drive us from here, as they did where we once lived?"

"Papa, what is she talking about?" Kristen cried, alarmed. "She's a wisewoman and an herbalist. She's not dangerous."

"Please, sir! She's hurt no one!" Ruby cried, looking like she was about to grab the fireplace poker and start swinging.

"Half a minute!" Rumple ordered. "All of you, relax! Stop jumping to conclusions." He looked sharply at Granny Lucas. "So you were an herbalist. Do you still practice your craft?"

"I do, but with your wife being the Healer, I see little reason to do so here," said Granny.

"Do you . . . perhaps know anything about . . . women carrying a child?"

Granny laughed. "I used to be the midwife too, magician, until people started making the evil eye against me and accusing me of witching their child in the womb. I delivered babies all year round before that. Until it happened."

"Then . . . would you mind coming up to the castle and taking a look at my wife?" Rumple said. "I fear there's something wrong with her. She has terrible headaches and is exhausted all the time and now she's taken to passing out during the day."

"How far along is she?"

"Just in her fourth month, I think. But she'd know better than I would."

"And you'd trust me to examine her?"

"Your curse is inactive now, lupin."

"You use the old form of address for us," Granny said, a note of approval in her voice. "Most nowadays just call us . . . lycanthropes."

"You mean . . . you're a werewolf?" Kristen whispered.

"Yes, and that is something I have yet to find a cure for," sighed Granny. "Not for me, for it's too late, but perhaps for Ruby. She wasn't bitten as badly as I was, so perhaps there's a chance."

"Most werewolf bites are fatal," Rumple said quietly. "That you survived at all is a miracle."

"Not much of one when you consider the way most people feel about them," Granny said shortly. "Once I was a respected elder. Since I was bitten and they realized what I'd become, they turned on me and spit on me."

"Have you gone through the Change then?" asked Rumple. "Has Ruby?"

"Once. Ruby hasn't. I bought a cape from a sorceress, she told me it can keep her from shifting. So far it's worked. But for how long? The nature of a were is strong. The first time, I was careful to go far from my village. I hurt no one. But it's only a matter of time. You know what the curse does to a person's mind."

"Yes. But what if there was a way to keep your mind while still shifted?"

"Impossible. The curse of a lycanthrope is to go mad and act like a bloodthirsty beast. It'll happen eventually, no matter what I do."

"But what if I told you there was a way to avoid that? Would that be worth something to you, dearie?"

"Speak plainly, sorcerer!"

"All right. I'll make a deal with you, Mistress Lucas. You come and tend to Belle, see if you can help her through her pregnancy. In return I shall try and recreate an old potion I read about. It's called lupinessence," Rumple bargained.

"Lupinessence. Never heard of it."

"It's a very old recipe, but it's said it can give a lycanthrope their mind back, and make them safe to be around, even during the full moon. If you drink it, you'll be like a shifter, just able to change shape and not become a ravenous beast. I've made a study of the old magics."

"And you'll make me this potion?"

"I will. I'll have to recreate it, since the recipe I have is only a partial one, but I can do that. Then you can try it the next time the moon is full. And all I ask in return is that you keep Belle reasonably healthy for the rest of her time. Do we have a deal?"

Granny thought for awhile. "Even if this potion doesn't work on me, maybe it will on Ruby, yes?"

"All I can guarantee is that I will make it for you, and you can gauge the power of it when you test it. I am no novice potions master, Lucas, almost any draft I brew works the way it's supposed to."

"All right, Gold. We have a deal. And if this . . . lupinessence doesn't work on me, we give it to Ruby instead," Granny bargained. She shook hands with Rumplestiltskin.

"Now, make sure your wife gets plenty of rest tonight. I'll come by the castle tomorrow and examine her," Granny said. "I think I know what her problem is, but I need to talk to her first and see if there are any other symptoms I don't know about."

"That's fine. I'll tell Belle about it and while you're talking things over, I'll be working on that formula," Rumple agreed. "It should take me about a week to have a sample."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Master Gold. Have a good night."

"You as well. Come along, Kris. You must be starving, you ran off so fast you didn't have supper."

Kristen turned and waved to Granny and Ruby. "Bye, Ruby! I'll see you tomorrow in school. Bye, Granny! And thank you for supper!"

"You had supper over here?" Rumple said.

"Granny insisted. We had pea soup and bread with honey," Kristen said. "It was delicious."

"Then tomorrow you must have dinner with us," the sorcerer said.

"It was nothing," Granny began. "I always make extra. You don't need to go through any trouble. You have enough mouths to feed."

"Then we won't notice two more, will we? It's no trouble. My daughters cook enough to feed a village, right, Kris?" He tousled her hair.

"Always. Please come."

"All right, _liebchen,_ you've twisted my arm," Granny chuckled. "Ruby and I will stay for supper."

The girls cheered.

Then Rumple gently herded Kristen out the door and together they walked home, their hearts now filled with hope instead of sorrow, unmindful of the shadows with the stars shining overhead.

**A/N: Hope you all liked! Next up will be Belle's talk with Granny and Rennie's party, where a certain someone will get a proposal, and someone else will get to dance with a certain love interest and two other someones will meet again and sparks will fly. Any guesses as to who I'm talking about?**


	46. All the Stars in the Sky

**46**

**All the Stars In the Sky**

"I'm going to bring this tray up to your mother," Rumple told Ivy and Rennie the next morning at breakfast. "If Granny Lucas comes over, just show her up to our bedroom."

"We will, Papa," said Ivy, handing him the wooden tray with the plate of pancakes with raspberry syrup, scrambled eggs, sausage, and a buttered biscuit on it. Next to it was a fork, knife, and a single red rose in a crystal bud vase. On the corner of the tray were a steaming cup of coffee and a tiny pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar with a spoon in it.

Rum flicked a hand at the tray as he approached the stairs, and it levitated itself up them as he walked behind it. Those who weren't magic born always thought that a neat trick, which it was, and it was one of the ways a magician first displayed his or her power, since levitation was a low-level manifestation of the gift. Besides light, it was one of the easiest skills for a magic wielder to master.

He came into the bedroom, the tray floating along like a well-behaved dog in front of him. "Are you hungry yet, love?" he asked Belle, who was lying propped up in bed with about four pillows.

"A little. What's there?" she asked.

"I didn't know what you'd like . . . or be able to eat, so I brought you some of everything," her husband said, having the tray hover just above her knees, within easy reach. "Do you want me to fix your coffee?"

"Yes, please," Belle said, shoving herself up higher on the pillows. She stared at the tray. "Rum . . . gods, I can't eat all this! Who do you think I am, Rafe?"

"Just eat what you can then," he said, stirring some milk and two sugar lumps into her coffee.

"Pancakes with raspberry syrup," she inhaled the delightful aroma. "Oh, I haven't had these in so long!" She cut off a small portion and ate it, sighing in pleasure.

Then she ate some eggs and nibbled on the buttered biscuit as well. She even tried a piece of sausage, but she didn't eat more than that, figuring the slightly spicy sausage would bother her delicate stomach. She drank the coffee while Rumple told her about meeting Granny Lucas and what he would give her in exchange for her services.

"Then you can make this potion?"

"Yes. It's a mite tricky, but I'll manage it. I'd do anything in the world for you, Belle," he said, caressing her hand.

"I know that, Rum. I'm just sorry that I can't . . . that this pregnancy is taking so much out of me," Belle began apologetically.

"Granny Lucas will help. Maybe she'll even help you with your patients at Shoe House, if you're too sick to take care of them?" her husband suggested.

"That's something I never thought of. But it's a good idea. I'll ask her," Belle said, and ate one more bite of her pancake with raspberry syrup.

It was one bite too many.

Belle wasn't sure what caused her stomach to rebel, the syrup or the fact that she had eaten too much too soon. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in panic.

"Aww hells," her husband sighed, and reached for the blue porcelain bowl beneath the bed which he kept there for emergencies like this. He floated the tray away and put the bowl in front of his wife. Then he held her head while she threw up everything she had eaten.

Belle hated being sick like this, more so in front of her husband, so she tried to fight it at first.

Rumple rubbed the back of her neck and murmured, "It's okay, sweetheart. Go ahead, don't fight. I've held plenty of heads in my time."

Finally she surrendered and once she was done with the whole wretched experience, Rumple vanished the contents of the bowl and wiped her face with a wet towel he summoned from the bathroom. "How's that, love? Better?"

Belle groaned. "I'm so sorry, Rum. It was a lovely breakfast."

"It's not your fault. Let me get you some water."

"Put some ginger root powder in it. Ask Rennie to show you where I have some in my stillroom," Belle said, cursing her weak stomach. She should have known better than to eat so much at once.

Rumple returned several minutes later not only with her glass of water mixed with some powdered ginger root, which she knew was great for upset stomachs, but also a small woman with her hair in a neat bun beneath a white cap, wearing a green dress with a white apron over it with plenty of pockets. "Belle, I'd like you to meet Granny Lucas. Here, take some small sips of this." He handed her the water and ginger combination.

Belle shook Granny's hand and then she sipped the tonic, relieved when it stayed down and started to soothe her irritated stomach immediately. "How do you do? I'm Belle Gold."

"Pleased to meet you, milady," Granny said, smiling at her. "Your husband tells me this pregnancy isn't going well for you. Your fourth, is it?"

Belle nodded. "I have all the usual symptoms, the morning sickness and migraines and feeling tired and even vertigo, but unlike the other times I was pregnant, these symptoms are lasting longer than they ever did with the others and are stronger. It's almost like . . . my body's fighting with the baby."

"How old are you, Belle?"

"I just turned thirty-four. That's a bit advanced to have another child, but Rum and I wanted one of our own, so . . ."

"That's not so old, milady. I've known older. And you're how far along?"

"This week will be four months and a couple of days. I skipped my first monthly back in June, at the end of the month . . ."

Rumple cleared his throat. "If you ladies will excuse me, I'll go down and work on that potion I promised you, Granny."

"You do that, Master Gold. I'll take care of your wife here," Granny said. As Rumple swiftly left the room, she turned to Belle and said softly, "Have you noticed any spotting lately?"

"Once or twice," Belle admitted. "I didn't want to tell Rum, he blames himself for my getting so sick and he'd be sure to think I was dying if I told him that was happening. Or the baby was."

"How long ago was that?"

"About two weeks ago. But it was light and it stopped after a few hours. I thought it just meant I should take it easy and I did for the next few days. Then I was fine. But this week is my daughter's seventeenth birthday, and I went to the village to get something special for her dinner and also a gift. But I never made it to Jared's shop, because I fainted before I got there."

"Is that the first time this happened?"

"Yes. Oh, I've felt dizzy before, but not like that." Belle said.

"Hmm. Let me do a quick exam, okay?" Granny said. She pulled back the sheets and lifted Belle's nightgown, gently feeling along her stomach and hips.

Belle's stomach was starting to protrude, and Granny felt it with the sureness of long experience. "Hmm. I'd say, based on your symptoms and your age, and your scent—"

"Excuse me? My _scent_?" Belle repeated. "I've never seen an herbalist diagnose a condition by smell before."

"That's because your ordinary herbalist, which is what I used to be, couldn't smell like I can. It's part of the lupin curse. But it gives me a heightened sense of smell, as well as hearing, and taste too. And right now my nose tells me something you might not have considered, Healer Belle."

"Like what?"

"Do you have a history of twins in your family? Or does your husband?"

"A history . . . let me think . . . I believe that there was one set of twins on my father's side, of my grandmother's, he had twin sisters. Why? Surely you don't think . . .?"

"They run in families, milady. Though they tend to skip a generation or so. Thus your grandmother's daughters wouldn't have had any, or your father, but you're her granddaughter. Also, you're older now, and as a woman grows older, her chance increases. What of your husband?"

"I . . . I don't know. He never talks much about his family. I know he was an only child, his parents didn't have a very good marriage. I'll have to ask him."

"If that's the case . . . based on your history and your symptoms, and what my nose is telling me, you have more than one baby in there, Belle. That's why your symptoms are so much worse, because you have two inside you and they're drawing pretty heavily on your reserves."

Belle put her hands over her stomach, her eyes full of wonder. "Twins! I don't know why I didn't think of that before."

"Sometimes it helps to get a second opinion. If I'm right, and we'll see as you progress, I'll need to put you on a special diet, one that gives you plenty of vitamins and minerals, protein, and iron. You're too thin, you need to gain weight, dear. I'll also prescribe you with a natural supplement to give you energy, so you stop feeling so tired in the middle of the day. Though I do recommend a nap or two, your body needs the extra rest. I suggest you eat lightly in the morning, have your daughter make you a broth of beef or chicken, infused with certain herbs I'll give her the recipe for. Then a juice also of certain vegetables and some dry toast or crackers. I think you'll do better to eat small light meals several times a day than three larger ones. And drink more milk, you need the nutrients it provides. Do you have a goat? That's easier on your stomach. Put a few drops of honey in it and drink it warm."

"And what about resting?"

"I'll come back and examine you every week. If you're not spotting again, you can do light activities, but I'd suggest you have your husband or sons accompany you if you go to the village again, that way if you feel dizzy they can help you walk home. If you start to spot again, you know what that means."

Belle grimaced. "Yes. I'll need to be on mostly bed rest for the rest of my term."

"Yes. But we'll hope that doesn't happen. Keep off your feet as much as possible."

"I'll try. Oh, and Granny? How would you feel about . . . taking over my practice until the babies are born?"

"I'd be honored, Belle. I wanted to ask if you needed help, but didn't want to step on your toes."

"You won't be. I'm stubborn, but I know to quit before I become too prideful and risk my health. Or that of my unborn children. I can stay here as a consult and grind up whatever mixtures you require. That way I can still be useful and rest at the same time."

Granny patted her arm. "I'll make up my lists now. You should be fine if you don't overdo it. I'll bet Master Gold will be shocked to hear that he's the father of twins."

Belle smiled. "Not much shocks Rum. But this might. I was certainly surprised."

"He seems like a decent man, even for a sorcerer," Granny said, then she coughed. "Forgive me, but some of the magic workers I've known were prideful and arrogant. Thought they were above everyone. That's what I thought your husband was like too, before last night."

"Rum is anything but arrogant, Granny."

"Would you mind satisfying an old woman's nosy curiosity and answering a question for me?"

"Of course."

"How did you two meet?"

As Belle told that story, Granny busied herself writing down recipes and lists of recommended food and some herbal tonics on a pad of paper she had in her pocket.

When she had done that, she went and gave the lists to Ivy and Rennie, making sure the girls understood her handwriting before returning upstairs with a cup of tea for Belle.

Ivy used her magic to make up a pot of chicken broth, using the herbs Granny had told her and Rennie brought her a new tray with the bowl of broth and milk with honey in it and some crispy crackers. "Ivy's working on that vegetable juice, Mom, but she hasn't finished it yet. But I thought you could you start with this."

"Thank you, Rennie. This is plenty for now."

Rennie departed, taking the first tray with her.

This time Belle ate slower and the food stayed down.

Granny nodded in approval.

**Page~*~*~*~*Break**

Rum was quite surprised when Belle told him Granny's diagnosis. "I would have never thought of that. I don't know much about where my father came from, or his family, I think they disowned him for being a wastrel and a drunk or whatever, but my mother's family was from the king's city, they were middle class merchants and wool spinners. I think she mentioned once that her great-uncles were twins, so it does run in my family." He ran his hand over her belly, his eyes wide with awe. "Two babies! Who would have thought? I wonder what they are, a boy and a girl, or two of either?"

"We'll see when they're born, beloved. But we'd better get to work thinking up names for them."

Rumple laughed. "I was so worried about you, dearie, that completely slipped my mind. I should make up a list or two. Maybe even see what the children and Jeff think is a good name or two."

"I'd like that. It'll be something we can all do as a family."

"Yes. I'm so glad that you're going to be all right, Belle. If you follow Granny Lucas' treatments. I thought for awhile there . . . that you were dying. That I'd lose you." He gazed at her, all the love within him shining in his brown eyes, and they sparkled with sudden tears.

"Oh, Rum! While there is breath in my body and the will to live within me, I shall never leave you. When I spoke my vows, they were forever and always, and I shall not surrender to death's embrace unless you come with me."

"I won't let you go till then either," he said thickly.

Then she reached for him and hugged him to her and he wept quietly into her shoulder, allowing himself the solace of tears at last.

She stroked his flyaway hair and whispered, "I love you, Rum. So much. And we'll be all right. All three of us."

She held him until his tears were spent, and he just lay on her shoulder, listening to her breathe and thought it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. "I love you too, my heart," he whispered. "All of you," he said, and his hand caressed her belly as he spoke.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

All the rest of the week, Elaina, Ivy, Aurora, Ariel, and Jasmine prepared for Rennie's party, cooking some of the food, writing out the invitations, and buying or making small presents. While they were doing that, Belle was resting as per Granny's orders.

All the children were delighted with the news that she was having twins, even Clary was excited now that she'd had time to adjust to the idea, and kept asking whether they were boys or girls. She seemed upset that neither Belle nor Rum could tell her exactly what they would be. But all of the kids volunteered a name or two and soon Rumple had a list as long as his arm of potential names.

He spent most of his time down in his lab, trying to recreate the lupinessence potion, and it was there that Jeff found him two afternoons before Rennie's birthday.

"Hey, Rum? Are you too busy to spare a minute of your time?" he asked, standing a few feet away from Rumple cauldron and work station.

Rumple looked up from rewriting the formula for the hundredth time and said, "Not at the moment, Jeff. What can I do for you?"

"I need your advice. On a . . . rather personal subject," Jeff said awkwardly.

"Oh? Go on."

"I . . . want to court Alice. But I want to do it right. Not like . . . I'd romance a tavern wench or a milkmaid or well, you know. What did you do when you courted Belle?"

Rumple grinned. "Oh, how the mighty bachelor has fallen!"

Jeff went crimson. "Shut up! I never said I wouldn't marry."

"I seem to remember you saying that very thing to me when we were seventeen."

"Yeah, that was after you'd married harpy Milah and I was damned if I'd ever back myself into a corner that way," Jeff protested. "Besides, what did I know of love then? Not a damn thing."

"True. Okay, I'll stop teasing," Rumple chuckled. "Do you know anything about the language of flowers, Jeff?"

"The what? I'm not a sorcerer, buddy. I can't talk to plants."

"No! No! Oh gods! This is going to be harder than I thought!" Rumple snickered.

"Damn it, Rum! Stop it, before I slug you one."

"Okay. Listen closely to me. And you might want to take notes too . . ."

"Take notes? Rumple, I'm going to kick your ass," Jeff glared at him.

"Then you won't get an answer to your question," the sorcerer said maddeningly.

"Okay! Okay! I'm listening!" Jefferson sighed. "But this better be worth it."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple was brewing the sample batch of the lupinessence potion when he was interrupted in the middle of stirring it ten times clockwise by Bae.

"Papa, can I ask you something?" his eldest asked softly.

Rumple held up a hand and continued stirring the requisite number of times before he stopped and looked up at Baelfire. "Now you can, son. What did you need?"

"Umm . . . would you mind . . . giving me an advance on my allowance?" Bae asked.

"What for?"

"I . . . want to get something special for Rennie for her birthday and I . . . need more gold than I have right now. I'll pay you back. Somehow."

Rumple waved that off. "You don't need to do that, Bae. How much are we talking about here?"

"Uh . . . a lot. I need . . . somewhere around a hundred and twenty gold pieces, Papa."

"That much? It must be some present. What are you buying her, a horse?"

"No. It's . . . a surprise."

"Ah. I see," Rumple winked. "Come on. Let me go upstairs and unlock my vault."

"Thanks, Papa! You're the best," Bae grinned. He whistled happily as he made his way up the stairs behind his father.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The stars were twinkling in the sky by the time the first guests started to arrive at the party. They had deliberately set it later in the evening, so Rennie could have her birthday with her family and then the party with her friends from Valley Way afterwards. The younger members of her family had already given her presents they had made and had gone upstairs to bed. All except for Finn and Ariel, whose present was providing the musical entertainment for the party. Snow, Bae, Aurora, Elaina, Rafe, and Ivy were permitted to attend the party also, since they were almost all Rennie's age and her friends were some of theirs also.

Rum and Belle were there as well, with Belle ensconced on a couch the boys had carried out on the lawn, where a large dance floor had been set up by some of the men from Valley Way. It was pillared and hung with strands of clematis and climbing wisteria and Finn, Ariel, and a few other young musical people were gathered on a platform at the far end, tuning up their instruments and discussing dance tunes.

Ivy had made strawberry champagne punch, a very light version of a grown-up alcoholic punch, with just a taste of alcohol and no more. Rum had put a spell over the punch bowl just in case, that would neutralize any alcohol anyone tried to spike it with, though no one knew it save himself, Jeff, and Belle.

There was also a table with a large strawberry shortcake and some finger foods as well as lemon-flavored water and sparkling pear cider.

Most of the guests, who were there by invitation, had arrived by seven thirty, including James, Archie, and several children of the retired mercenaries who frequented the Goose, as well as Rennie's girlfriends from school. There were close to thirty teenagers at the gathering, all dressed in fancy party dresses and tunics and breeches, laughing and joking with each other as they ate the food and drank the punch.

Then, at a prearranged signal from Bae, Finn struck a chord on his flute, and the band began to play a rollicking country aria. They played until some of the teens had gone out on the dance floor and begun to twirl about, and then Ariel chimed in with her golden voice, making the air echo with her pure enthusiasm.

Soon that song ended and another took its place, and Rum sat with Belle and watched as the children divided into couples for the next set. Rennie twirled around with Bae, the light glimmering off the beautiful golden topaz necklace she had gotten from Belle and Rum for a birthday present, though she'd insisted the party and dinner was plenty. It had matching earrings and a bracelet and was the first set of grown-up jewelry she had ever owned, the pieces had once been Belle's, the last thing she had managed to take from Avonlea before it had burned.

"These belonged to my mother, your grandmother, Serenity, and hers before her. They aren't the crown jewels, but they are what were most valuable to me out of all the pieces I owned. I saved them for you, and now they are yours to keep. The set was missing a few stones, so your father provided them and also the bracelet, which broke on the way here."

"This way you'll always have a piece of your heritage with you, dearie," Rum said, and then he put the necklace about her neck.

"Thank you, Papa and Mom! I'll treasure them always, and if I have a little girl, someday they'll be hers, so she'll always remember that once we were princesses of Avonlea," Rennie said, hugging them.

She was wearing Elaina and Aurora's gift to her, a stunning copper colored dress that matched the fiery jewels in her necklace exactly and fit her like a glove. Her girlfriends gasped in envy when they saw her in it, and Bae almost swallowed his tongue when he spotted her coming down the stairs to greet her guests.

He had always known Rennie was beautiful, that she looked very like Belle, who had inherited the sultry coloring of her Avonlea ancestors, like a rose in first bloom. But seeing her in that gown stole the breath from his lungs and it was a moment before he got it back. Then he gave her his most charming smile and held out his hand, and she took it and smiled back, then they went forward to say hello to all their friends.

"You look incredible, Ren," he said softly as they greeted people. "I almost didn't recognize you tonight."

"Why?"

"Because you look like an angel come down to earth, that's why."

"Aww, you're sweet, Bae!" she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"I mean it. You're the prettiest girl in the room tonight and I'm going to show you just how much you mean to me a little bit later when we're dancing."

"Bae, what are you talking about?" she asked, her heart beating faster.

"You'll see," he said mysteriously.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Finn and the rest of musicians were now playing a lively set of dance tunes and most of the teens were dancing to them, skipping and twirling and giggling at their partners.

Snow stood awkwardly at the edge of the dance platform, twisting her hands together nervously. She was wearing a pretty blue gown that Elaina had made over for her from one of hers, since she hadn't had time to make her a totally new one. But Snow thought it was very pretty and had been excited to wear it to the party tonight, until she saw the other girls crowding about James Shepherd like a flock of hungry geese trying to snatch a choice morsel of corn from the ground.

He was nodding and smiling to them politely, and they were surrounding him, making it impossible for him to find the one girl he'd come here especially to see. Trained by his mother to always be polite and considerate of a girl's feelings, he couldn't just push his way out of the crowd of young maidens and regrettably one of them took his hand and dragged him into a pavane before he could escape.

Snow watched as they danced, thinking that perhaps she should just crawl away in a hole somewhere, when a familiar voice said, "Care to dance a little with an old married man, Snow?"

She turned and saw Rumplestiltskin beside her, holding out a hand. "Oh! You would do that . . . for me?"

"I know this wasn't exactly what you had in mind, dearie, but I would happy to partner you," he said, bowing gallantly.

Smiling, she took his hand, thinking again how kind he was to spare her the embarrassment of being a wallflower. "Thank you, kind sir!"

They danced slowly and carefully across the floor, and Snow soon found herself laughing in spite of herself, as Rumple made quips to her about all the other dancers. Her dark eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed with color, and if she was disappointed that James wasn't there to dance with, she was determined not to show it.

Rumple turned her gently, one eye peering for James Shepherd. _Come on, boy, get your act together and get over here,_ he thought silently. _Or do I have to cast a come-hither spell on you and light a fire beneath your ass?_

Snow waved to Elaina and Rafe as they danced a swift flamenco, Rafe able to twirl Elaina with the speed of a top by her long braid until they were both breathless and laughing.

Rumple winked at them, then said, "Unfortunately, those days are gone for good for me. But I don't really miss them."

He maneuvered until he and Snow were dancing side by side beside James and the girl who had dragged him onto the floor in the first place. Then he waited until they had to trade partners, which was what the dance called for, and he handed Snow to James. "She's all yours, boy. Treat her well."

Then he turned to the girl James had been partnering and said, "Hello, dearie. Think you can keep up with me?" Then he whirled her off across the floor before she could protest, giving James and Snow plenty of space.

James grinned at Snow. "Rum's sure clever, isn't he? I think he arranged that."

"I know he did, Charming. I thought you'd never get away from those . . . those silly twits," Snow said, then she blushed, for that was an expression Regina often used.

But Charming just laughed and said, "Believe me, if not for the manners my mom drilled into me, I'd have shoved my way through them all at once and come for you, Mary Margaret."

"You mean . . . you wanted to dance with me?" Snow stammered.

"You were the whole reason Bae invited me to this party," Charming admitted. "He knew you'd never come to me on your own, so he decided this was the best way to get us together."

"Oh! I'll have to . . . to thank him. He's so much like Rum with those kind gestures," Snow said, blushing.

"You can do that later, pretty girl. Right now, I just want to hold you in my arms and never let this night end."

Snow gazed up at him, her heart in her eyes. "You really mean that?"

"I never say things I don't mean, fair one," Charming reassured her. Then he dipped his head and kissed her.

Snow thought she had died and come back to life, his kiss was that potent. She felt her toes curl and she kissed him back fiercely, not caring if it was at all proper.

Charming felt a sudden shock go through him and thought, _I have waited all my life for this girl. Baelfire, you were right. She's the one for me._ Then he twirled her away to a fast reel, feeling like he was drunk though he hadn't touched even a drop of strawberry punch.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Archie was watching the dancers with something like longing on his face when Aurora found him and said, "Hey, Archie! How'd you like do a reel with me?"

Archie turned and looked at her, in her beautiful purple gown that had won the Best Dress Award at the midsummer festival, and quickly lost his voice. "Uh . . . all right, Rory," he managed, his voice squeaking embarrassingly.

But Aurora ignored his voice and just took his hand, smiling her sweet smile, and began to dance slowly with him.

Archie had never been a particularly good dancer, he always felt awkward doing the steps, because he was growing faster than his feet could keep up with him. But tonight, with Aurora in his arms, his feet were no longer clumsy. Tonight he had wings and he danced lightly with the best spinner in Valley Way all around the floor and didn't step on her feet once.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Jefferson stood beside the punch bowl and watched the couples dancing, wondering if he should go inside for a nip of something stronger than Ivy's strawberry punch when someone tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Long time no see, stranger."

"Alice!" he gasped, stunned to see the Captain of the Card Captors here at Rennie's party and even more shocked to see her, not in mail with a sword at her side, but in the blue gown she'd worn to Belle's wedding. "What are you doing here?"

"A little bird told me there was a party here I might want to attend," she laughed, her blue eyes glittering. Her hair was loose from its customary braid for once and bound back with a fillet of silver. But as he glanced at her, his eyes moving appreciatively up and down her lithe frame, he saw she still wore her boots.

"That little bird wouldn't happen to be a beauty named Belle, would it?" he asked, gently taking her hand and bowing over it, the way Rumple had told him.

"Maybe. I've missed you, Jeff. Briony was full of boring hide-bound stiffs who sneered at me behind my back for captaining a company until I wanted to bash their perfect teeth down their sly throats."

"They dared to laugh at you?" Jeff demanded incredulously. "Who were they? Because I'm going to ride over there and teach them a lesson they'll never forget."

"Oh, Jeff! Are you offering to defend my honor?" Alice queried. "Nobody's done that for me since I put my hair up and stopped wearing short skirts and put on a pair of breeches."

"Damn straight I am!" he swore, then he coughed "Uh . . . if you want me to, that is. I know you can probably kick their asses all by your lonesome . . ."

Alice grinned. "It's the thought that counts, Jeff. I appreciate it." She gazed speculatively around the dance floor. "Hmm . . . what do you say we show these kiddies how well two old mercs can do a waltz, huh?"

"You know how to waltz?"

"Sure. I wasn't always a sellsword. Once I was a sixteen-year-old merchant's daughter who was best friends with a princess and she shared her dance lessons with me. I still remember them. How about it, pretty boy?"

"Sure, Alice," Jeff beamed back at her, thinking, _thank the gods my granny made me learn how to do this stupid dance when I was a kid._ Then he placed a hand about her waist and drew her close, twirling her about with the consummate grace of a born swordsman. "You look beautiful tonight, Miss Sharpe."

"It's the dress," Alice blushed. "Underneath it I'm just a scarred swordswoman, Hatter."

"Those scars are badges of honor, Captain," Jeff said tenderly. "And I think they make you more beautiful than any ordinary woman."

"You say the most ridiculous things, Lieutenant, but I love listening to your voice," Alice smirked, skipping to the music, her golden hair flying about her head like a crown of shooting stars.

"Good, sweetling, because I could talk to you all night," Jeff murmured, and then his mouth met hers in a breath-stealing kiss that made him ache in places no woman had ever touched in years. And he took Rumple's final advice and stopped trying to sound like a courtier and just went with his instincts, which were telling him to shut up and just dance with the beautiful mercenary in his arms, who made his heart threaten to come through his ribcage, she made it beat so hard.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Ivy stood beside the punch bowl , fanning herself after she had danced the last set of dances with Archie, Rafe, and Cam, a boy from school that she might have considered dating if not for Myrnin. Her hand clasped the silver hawk eternity pendant and she gazed up at the stars, the bright points of light overhead, and silently named all the constellations she could see.

_Oh, Myrnin. Do you see the stars like I do, all twinkling and fiery? I miss you so much and I wish that you could be here tonight. You'd love it and I could look into your eyes and hear you whisper my name. Gods, how I wish you could come back to me. I promised to wait for you, and I will, but I haven't heard from you in months. How much longer, a'liri?_

She gazed up at the stars overhead and prayed that he was somewhere safe, and that he still remembered he loved her, Rumplestiltskin's clever magical daughter, even though he was a prince of the _il'Shennara_.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Far away, in a place where the trees grew close together and the fires of a war encampment burned on the horizon, a tall figure with a bow stood atop a hill, the sentry for this batch of _il'Shennara_ warriors. He was dressed in simple green and brown clothing, such as any scout wore, the better to blend in with his surroundings. His dark hair was bound back by a gold band, the only outward symbol of his rank, which his father insisted upon him wearing. It felt like an iron band about his forehead, and sometimes he wanted to rip it off and throw it in the dirt.

But he didn't dare, knowing his people needed to see him as strong, as the hawk for which he had been named, to give them courage as they fought their dark cousins, the _dwarrow_. His elder brother was almost well, but not well enough to take up his position as war leader yet, and so Myrnin must serve in that capacity for awhile longer.

His fingers turned over a golden circlet of ivy leaves as he watched the stars and listened to noises of the night. Then they gripped the little ring hard.

_Ivy, a'liri, do you see the stars dance in the sky? How I wish I were with you beneath them, rather than here, listening for any stealthy attempt to catch us unaware by my dark kin. This war is draining my people of strength and my father will not listen to me and request aid from Rumplestiltskin, the idiot. _

His gaze sharpened as he looked up at the stars and saw one, the Arrow, pointing behind him . . . where the Dark Castle lay.

_Someday, Ivy, I shall follow where the arrow points and return you. But until then, I pray you're watching the stars as I am, and remember that somewhere I am too, and thinking of you, my sweet enchantress._

**Page~*~*~*~*Break**

Rennie danced with Bae until they were both breathless and had to stop. She wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow and said, "Let's get some punch, okay? I need a breather."

"Me too," Bae said, and he walked swiftly from the platform and over to the table with the punch. He caught Ivy's questioning glance and nodded once in confirmation.

Ivy gave him a thumbs-up sign and then backed away, leaving them alone in front of the punch bowl.

Out on the dance floor, the musicians suddenly halted their playing and a hush fell over the crowd of teens as they stopped dancing to watch the couple.

"You want some, Ren?" Bae asked casually.

"Yes," she said, and reached for a glass.

"No, let me," Bae said quickly, picking up the glass before she could do so.

"Bae, I can get my own punch," she began, confused.

But he ignored her, ladling some of the pale pink liquid into the glass, then turning to her and saying, "Here, Ren."

As she took it, there came a soft tinkling sound.

"What was that?" she asked, holding the glass.

"I . . . dropped something," Bae said softly, and then knelt on the ground, pretending to look for it.

"Did you find it, Bae?" Rennie queried, peering at him.

He raised his head and gazed right into her brilliant sapphire eyes. "Yes, I did. It's right here," he replied, taking her left hand in his.

"Bae, what . . .?"

"This was what I was searching for, Serenity," he said, holding a gold ring with a glittering half-carat diamond in the center of his palm. It was flanked by a topaz on one side and a garnet on the other, their respective birthstones. He gently slid the ring on her finger. "Will you be my betrothed, Serenity Emilie Avonlea? With this ring I pledge you my heart and my love forever, which burns brighter than all the stars in the sky."

Serenity gasped, staring down at the glittering ring, the promise of marriage when they were both adults given physical form, winking like a fallen star on her finger. Then she looked at Baelfire, whom she had loved since the day he had caught her in his arms when she'd tripped chasing that silly goose, and she pulled him to his feet. "Yes! A thousand times yes, Baelfire Gold!"

Their mouths met, and their pledge was sealed, in the way of thousands of lovers before them, with a kiss that gave each to the other, all that they were.

Those watching cheered and clapped, celebrating the betrothed couple's happiness.

And it seemed, for just an instant,that all the stars in the sky glowed, a portent, perhaps, of true love fulfilled.

**A/N: yes, this chapter was filled with romance, like I promised! Hope you liked it!**

**Now I have a request to make of all you readers-since you know that Belle's having twins now, I would ask you to pick one girl and one boy name for them, and help me name the Rumbelle babies, if you wouldn't mind. Based on your choices I shall name the babies after they are born. You can PM me or leave the names chosen in your review. Thank you!**


	47. Snow and the Shepherd

**47**

**Snow and the Shepherd**

After the party, things quieted down some at the castle, and Rumple gave the sample of the lupinessence potion to Granny to try on the next full moon, which was in a couple of weeks, right before Rumple's birthday.

The children were doing well at school, especially Snow, whom Nova praised for her quick mind and eagerness to learn. That shocked the girl at first, for her tutors had been careful to not praise her too much because of Regina, who told them that too much praise would give Snow too high of an opinion of herself. Of course Snow didn't know that, and had nearly convinced herself that she was a lost cause until Nova started calling on her more often and even asking her to help her grade a few tests and quizzes after school on Tuesdays.

Now she went to school with her head held high and even helped tutor some of the younger Gold children, like Jack and Nick, in subjects they had difficulty with, like long division and fractions, or composition.

One night, Rumple called her over to speak with him and Belle, who was resting on the sofa in the sitting room, while the others were still working on homework. "Your teacher tells me that you've earned consistent high marks in your class, Snow," Rumple began.

"She also says that you're a good influence on some of the students who tend to study less and do badly on tests," Belle added.

"All I do is offer them suggestions on how to learn the material," Snow said, a little embarrassed.

"Suggestions which they tend to take better than ones from a teacher, according to Nova," Rumple said. "I've seen you with Jack and Nick, dearie. You're a natural teacher, Snow."

"I am?"

"Yes, and I ought to know," Rumple nodded. "Didn't I tell you one day you'd come out from Regina's shadow and learn to stand on your own two feet?"

Snow nodded. "Yes, but . . . I didn't think too much of that happening."

"Well, you've done marvelously, Snow," Belle smiled at her. "We're very proud of you."

Snow blushed a becoming rose and squeaked, "You—you _are_?" She hadn't been praised like this since before her father had died.

"We certainly are," Rumple seconded. "You rival Ivy and Tom for the best students in the family."

"I . . . do?" Snow stammered. "But . . . Tom's a brilliant mathematician and a genius with almost every subject and Ivy is too."

"Yes, they're my scholars," Rumple agreed. "But so are you, Snow. Not only that, but you have a gift, child, for being able to break down concepts so those who have trouble can grasp them easily."

"Like Rumple can," Belle pointed out. "He's excellent at that, it's what makes him able to teach the children so well. I'm able to do that for some things, like reading and writing, but I can't explain math to save my life, I just know how to do it, and I can take you through the makings of a tonic, but having to explain how herbs react with one another to someone who's unfamiliar with them is difficult for me, as it is for most people who can do something easily. What you can do, Snow, is a wonderful thing."

Snow's eyes widened at Belle and Rumple's sincere praise for what she had assumed was something anyone could do. For the first time since Regina had married her father, she began to see herself as someone who mattered, someone special, and not the useless milksop her stepmother had always claimed she was.

"We wanted you to know that we saw how well you were progressing," Rumple continued. "And to give you a little reward for your achievement."

"A . . . reward?"

"James came over earlier this week and told Bae and Rennie about a new fiddler that was going to play a concert at the Goose next Friday. He invited Bae and Rennie to see it, and then he asked me for permission to invite you. I told him yes. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it, and let him ask you, but it struck me as the perfect opportunity to reward you for your academic excellence," the sorcerer explained.

"I agreed, and you can tell James when he asks that you can go with him to the concert, along with Bae and Rennie," Belle said. "It's rather late at night, which is why we decided only you older children would be allowed to attend."

"And Rafe and Elaina aren't much for concerts," Rumple said. "Unless Finn and Ariel are playing. They make an exception for them."

Snow was speechless. But at last she regained her voice. "Thank you! Thank you both so much!" But somehow it didn't seem enough to simply say thanks, so she rushed over and hugged first Rumple and then Belle. "I've never been to anything with just people my own age before."

"We trust James to look out for you," said Belle. "And you can tell us all about it the next morning, for the concert ends at eleven."

"I'll wait for you all to come home and then go to bed," Rumple said.

"I can hardly wait," Snow said eagerly, and she hummed happily as she washed the dishes that night, wondering when Charming would come over to ask her.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

As it turned out, she didn't have to wait long, because Charming showed up that same night, as eager to share the good news with her as she was to accept it. Snow pretended to be surprised, so Charming would think he was the first one to tell her, and she hugged him tightly afterwards and invited him in for dessert with the family.

He accepted gladly, and sat down with them to eat some of Rennie's delicious coconut custard pie and coffee. When they discussed the concert, James looked over at Finn and said, "I'm surprised you aren't going to see George Hart the next day, Finn."

Finn shook his head. "I can't, Jim. I have to practice for the orchestra that Miss Lyra's put together for the holiday pageant. I'm one of her soloists and I have to learn all fifteen songs by heart before December fifteenth. Otherwise I would be right up there on Saturday."

"_Fifteen_ songs?" exclaimed Bae. "What are you, maestro, the only musician she's got?"

"No. But I do play a solo in almost all of the compositions, so I have to know them all," Finn explained.

"And I sing for some of them, so I have to practice too," Ariel said. "It's too bad we can't see the fiddler, but you can tell us how good he was and there's always more minstrels coming through Valley Way, especially with the holiday coming up."

"We'll be sure to tell you all about it, Ari," promised Rennie. "If I had a good enough voice or could play an instrument, I'd even do that for you."

"We should have a great time," said Charming happily. He squeezed Snow's hand beneath the table while he cut himself a second piece of pie.

"Just make sure you're home by midnight," Rumple reminded them.

"We will, Master Gold," Charming promised. "And if it gets out later than planned, we'll send a messenger to let you know."

"That's fine, Jim. So long as I know why you've been delayed, I won't worry," Rumple said.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It seemed to take forever for next Friday to arrive. Snow kept busy with school and helping to cook, since Granny had taken over Belle's practice and Rennie was helping her grind up herbs and medicine, since she had learned a lot of that from Miranda and Belle when they lived at Shoe House. Granny seemed pleased with how Belle's pregnancy was going now that she had her on a special regimen where she ate more and didn't throw up half as much, she had started to gain more weight and now her stomach was round and showed more through her dresses.

Clary stared at her, and asked bluntly, "What happened to your lap, Mama?"

"It went away, sweetie, until the babies are born," Belle explained, trying not to laugh.

"Why?"

"Because the babies are using it, Clary," she told the precocious imp.

"Then how am I going to sit on your lap?"

"You can sit on mine," Rumple said, coming into the bedroom, where Belle was sitting on a chair beside the window, getting some sun before it turned too chilly. He then sat on the bench at the foot of their bed, which he used to pull his boots on, and patted his knee.

Clary huffed and glared at Belle's middle. "Selfish!"

"What?" Belle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Them babies are selfish, Mama! They take up your whole lap and don't leave me any room." She spun around and marched over to her father, then climbed on him and said, "Papa, you're gonna have to talk to them kids and 'splain to them about sharing!"

"Okay, dearie. I will, as soon as they're born," Rumple agreed, then he looked over at Belle and they both burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Clary asked.

Rumple ruffled her golden-red curls and said, "Don't worry about it, Clary."

The little girl rolled her eyes. "Is this one of those stupid grown-up jokes?"

"Yes," Belle said, and she started laughing again at the indignant tone in Clary's voice.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Finally Friday night came, and Snow took her blue party dress out of her closet and shook out the wrinkles and wiped it down with a lint brush, since sometimes animal hair got on people's clothes, especially since Puss went everywhere in the castle. Then she had Elaina arrange her hair, braiding some of it in a crown atop her head, and then decorating the rest of the heavy dark locks with tiny strands of seed pearls woven into her hair.

"You look beautiful, Snow!" Elaina declared. "I mean, Mary Margaret! Just wait until shepherd boy sees you, his chin's gonna hit the ground and you'll have to pick it up off the floor."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. That charming rascal's not going to know what hit him, trust me," Elaina said, gently rubbing some magical hair gel into Snow's hair, assuring everything stayed in place. Then she stood back and surveyed her "cousin" and nodded in satisfaction. "Knock him dead, cousin."

Snow giggled. "If I did that, I'd not be able to go to the concert with him."

Elaina grinned. "You and Rennie will be the envy of every other girl there."

"That's because you've fixed our hair, Elaina," said her older sister, coming into their room. Rennie's hair was swept up with a few tendrils hanging artistically down by her ear lobes, which were pierced and wore the topaz earrings from the set Belle had given her. She was wearing the copper dress she had worn to her birthday party. "You're an enchantress with a hair brush."

Elaina colored pleasantly. "Thanks, Ren. It's the one talent I have . . . besides sewing."

"And we're all grateful you do," Snow said. "I could never do anything with my hair."

"Better get going," Elaina urged them. "Tall, dark, and charming should be at the door any minute. You don't want to miss your entrance."

The two girls scurried down the hall and promenaded down the staircase.

The first one who saw them was Jefferson, who was also dressed for a night out, as he was taking Alice for dinner in the village by the seashore where Rum and Belle had honeymooned. "My gods, somebody wake me up! Because I'm dreaming with my eyes wide open! You girls look like goddesses come to life."

Rennie chuckled. "Thanks, Uncle Jeff! You look very handsome too."

"Ah, it's this jacket I borrowed off Rum," Jefferson said, tugging slightly on the dark blue jacket with gold buttons he wore over a silk shirt and skin tight blue leather breeches. "Actually, I borrowed the whole outfit, and he adjusted it to fit me, but don't tell Alice. I want her to think I'm a snappy dresser." His top hat was perched rather rakishly on his head.

"You? Your idea of dressing to impress, Jeff, is throwing on whatever doesn't look wrinkled or have holes in it in your closet," Rumple remarked. "You and Jack must have the same ancestors."

"Oh, be quiet, clothes horse," Jeff ordered. He tugged lightly on his jacket again, making sure the tails lay flat.

"Stop pulling on it, or you'll put a hole in it and I'll make you sew it," his friend threatened.

"Buddy, you know how well I sew," Jeff smirked.

"I'll make you learn," Rumple teased. Then he swept his girls with an approving eye. "Lovely, dearies! Now where are the boys? Trying to be fashionably late?"

Just then Bae and Charming came in through the kitchen door, both of them held rose bouquets tied with simple ribbons in their hands, Charming had his tied with blue to match Snow's gown and Bae had an orange one for Rennie. Both bouquets had a mixture of red, white, and orange roses in them.

"Ah, raiding the rose arbor, were you?" Jeff snickered.

"Hey, it's cheaper than buying them," Bae said. "I'm broke after buying Rennie's betrothal ring."

"And they're nicer than wildflowers, which is about all I can afford after getting those tickets," Charming said.

"They're lovely," Snow said, taking hers and burying her nose in them. "I love roses."

"Me too," said Rennie. "And they even match my dress."

"Smart, Bae," Jefferson said.

"Papa taught me how to do that," Bae shrugged.

"And _he_ actually listened to me, unlike you," Rumple pointed out. He pulled out his money pouch and handed both boys a handful of gold pieces. "So you can get refreshments at the concert. But nothing stronger than an ale or two. You come back drunk, Baelfire, and you'll be in trouble."

"Yes, Papa. I know," Bae sighed at the familiar litany.

"My mom told me the same thing," James said.

"Aww, where's the fun in that, Rum?" Jeff protested.

Rumple glared at him. "I seem to remember you having one too many with Hal and Eric down at the tavern when you were seventeen and when you came home, your grandma almost drowned you in the rain barrel."

"Rum, you have a memory like a damn elephant!" Jeff swore. "You're the only one who remembers that now that Gran's dead."

"You forgot about it?" his friend asked slyly.

"Hell, no! But you don't have to bring it up either."

"Then don't encourage my kids to get drunk."

"Pain-in-the-ass!" growled the mercenary.

"Reprobate," the sorcerer returned.

"Okay, we're leaving now, Papa," Bae said hastily. "Before there's a fight and we have to get involved."

"A fight?" Jeff raised an eyebrow. "What fight? I can kick his ass."

"Before or after I turn you into one?" Rumple queried.

"Bye!" Rennie called, waving, as she headed out the door. "Now behave, before Mom comes after you with the broom," she called over her shoulder.

Snow, Bae, and Charming followed, laughing at how quickly both men quit needling each other at the mention of Belle's wrath.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Snow found the concert every bit as entertaining as she had hoped. The fiddler was first rate, keeping his audience mesmerized at some points with his haunting renditions of sorrowful folk tunes like "Cry For Me, Lorena" and "Ten Thousand Tears", then clapping and singing along with the well-known ones, like "My Bonnie Girl in the Heather,", "Sing me a Love Song", and "You Color My World". Then came the famous "Danny and the Devil Make a Deal", which was a fiddler's signature piece, with a solo that could make or break a musician if not done right. But he did it with all the runs and trills the piece called for and then some, and had everyone on their feet stomping and yelling before it was over.

"And Danny he said, I'll make a deal with you," James sang, clapping in time to the music.

"Then the devil he laughed, Play that fiddle for me, son," Bae sang the next line along with the whole room full of people, many who were teenagers like them.

"And if you quit a'fore the night is done," sang Rennie.

"Your soul belongs to me with the rising sun," Snow belted out the next line, as the fiddler began making his bow dance across the strings. She was hanging onto Charming's shoulder, her dark eyes aglow as she grinned up at him, the hanging chandelier casting light across the room and glinting in the pearls in her hair.

She was having such a good time that she failed to see a figure in the back of the room, who was gazing at her with cold eyes. An evil smirk danced over his lips before he resumed clapping along with the rest of the audience.

"Finn would have loved this," Bae said as the fiddler bowed to the audience after the piece was over.

"We'll tell him all about it tomorrow," Rennie said, kissing him.

Which prompted James in turn to kiss Snow until they were both breathless and laughing.

They all cried for an encore, and the fiddler put his bow across his strings once more and began to play again, this time the dance tune, "Sunshine in Thine Eyes" and everyone began clapping and singing again.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"That was great!" Snow said after the fiddler had taken his final bow. "But I'm so thirsty."

"Yeah, it's hot in here," Charming said. "Let me get a table and then Bae and I will buy you something to drink and I think they have some snacks to eat too."

"Mike usually does," Bae said, elbowing his way through the crowd and handing Rennie into a chair in a table in the corner. "Be right back," he said.

Snow and Rennie chatted about the concert and which songs they liked best while Charming and Bae got them an ale each and a basket of crispy chicken legs and spiced pickles.

It was only eleven, so they all had some chicken and pickles and a single tankard of Mike's Wicked Ale before they decided to head back home, wanting to get there before Rum's curfew.

They slipped from the tavern still giggling and singing snatches of music, Rennie holding Bae's arm and Snow skipping along next to Charming.

No one noticed the shadow that suddenly detached itself from the wall and followed, moving silently as a wraith behind them.

Charming couldn't take his eyes off of Mary Margaret. She practically glowed whenever she smiled, and as soon as her dark eyes glanced his way, he felt heat crawl up him in a spiraling cascade that made him halt suddenly to take her in his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

They were on the path heading to the castle now, and the moon was half-full overhead, giving them plenty of light to see the way back.

Rennie glanced back once at their companions and said, "Come on, Bae, let's see who can beat the other couple home."

"Ha! With the way those two are smooching, we'll win easy," Bae hooted. "See you in the courtyard, Jim! If you don't pass out first!"

Then he grabbed his betrothed's hand and raced up the path, leaving Snow and Charming still in a passionate embrace.

Charming managed to lift his head and muttered, "Gold, you're such a wise ass," then he looked tenderly at the girl in his arms and said, "Want to take a short cut? I know a way we could go that will put us ahead of them."

"Let's do it, Charming!" Snow agreed.

She followed her suitor through a patch of brush to the right of the central trail and began running alongside him, her hands grabbing her skirts and pulling them past her ankles so she could move easier.

Charming had longer legs than she did, however, and so he managed to pull a few feet ahead of her, calling, "Ready or not, here we come, Baelfire!"

Snow was trying to watch where she was running, so as not to fall in a hole or trip over a rock on the small game trail, and the first inkling she had of danger was when a figure suddenly sprinted up behind her and hissed, "Regina sends her greetings, Snow White!"

She spun, almost falling backwards, to see a black clad figure raising a knife and screamed as he tried to plunge it into her ribs.

But her stumble saved her life, as the assassin's first thrust missed.

The blade just grazed her side, and left a scratch there, but it was not the killing blow the Brother had intended.

Her yell brought Charming back to her side, however. "Mary Margaret, are you okay? Did you fall?" he cried, seeing her stumble. Then he saw the figure above her and he reacted the way he would have if a wolf had attacked one of his sheep.

He drew his hunting knife, which he always carried in his boot, a wicked length of sharp steel nearly as long as his forearm, and rushed at the shadowy intruder.

Not expecting another attack, and believing his victim no threat, the assassin was unprepared for Charming's attack, and just barely got his knife up in a block before Charming slammed into him, knocking him away from Snow and almost off his feet.

"Get off her, you bloody sick bastard!" Charming snarled, thinking this was a drunken patron from the Goose. His knife scored a line of fire down the other's leg.

The Brother hissed in pain and executed a simple tumbling maneuver, putting him out of reach of Charming's arm. He rolled to his feet, furious, and would have attacked the younger man, but then he heard other voices coming back down the trail and knew he couldn't risk being seen by witnesses. He melted back into the shadows, clutching his leg, and swearing a blue streak silently. He would find another chance, but in the meantime he'd note where they went and get a message back to Regina about who was harboring her fugitive stepdaughter. That ought to be worth something to the coldhearted witch.

Charming glanced around for the other man, and didn't see him, so he turned and called softly to Snow, "Mary Margaret, are you okay?"

Snow managed to stay on her feet, though the wound in her side began to throb. "Yes, he just . . . scratched me," she panted.

Then Bae and Rennie burst onto the small trail, and Bae cried, "What happened? We heard a scream."

"Some crazy bum attacked Mary Margaret," said James, sheathing his knife. "But he ran when he heard you coming."

Rennie turned to Snow, hugging her. "Great gods! Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"He . . . his knife just grazed me, but I'm bleeding a little," Snow said, shivering. She pressed a hand to her side. "Rennie, this wasn't just some crazy drunk idiot. He . . . he meant to kill me. Before he struck he . . . told me that . . . Regina sent her regards."

Rennie went deathly pale. "Oh, gods! We need to get home and tell Papa. He'll know what to do."

"What do you mean, he _meant_ to kill you?" Charming repeated incredulously. "Why would anyone want to do that? And what's all this about Regina? The Queen of the Enchanted Forest doesn't hire an assassin to kill a simple country lass."

Snow looked at him and said softly, "No, you're right. She doesn't. But then . . . I'm not what you think I am, Charming."

"Mary Margaret, what are you talking about? Did you hit your head or something?"

"No, Charming please, shut up and listen. My name's not Mary Margaret, it's Snow White. I'm Regina's stepdaughter and she wants me dead. That's why I came here along with Jefferson. To claim sanctuary at the Dark Castle. Rum and Belle promised to protect me from her, but I couldn't let anyone else know who I was. I'm sorry I lied to you, but I had no choice." Tears glimmered on her lashes.

Charming looked thunderstruck. But only for an instant. Then he said, "Okay . . . I'll figure this out later. Right now we need to get you back to the castle before something else happens. Can you walk?"

"Of course. He only grazed my side, not my feet," Snow said, giving a short little laugh, which was faintly hysterical.

Rennie had her arm about her, and she said, "Come on, sweetie, it's all right. Let's just start walking."

Bae and Charming flanked them, drawing their knives as they did so.

"I think I cut the scum, but I can't be sure," Charming said to Bae. "It was too dark to tell."

"Let's hope so," Bae said darkly.

Because of Snow's shaky knees, which occurred all of a sudden when she thought of how close she had come to being killed, it took them longer than expected to get back to the castle.

As they arrived in the courtyard, which now had all the lights lit up, they met Jefferson and Alice, who had returned from their date at eleven-thirty to find Rum pacing up and down and looking out the window.

"There you are!" Jeff said, relief in his tone. "It's after midnight and your father was just getting ready to come and look for you. He's ready to spit fireballs, so you'd better talk fast, kids."

"Jeff! He—he almost killed me!" Snow cried, running to him and hugging him, shaking like a leaf and blubbering all over his borrowed suit.

"_What_?"

"Snow was attacked," Bae said. "But Jim drove him off."

"He cut her though, Uncle Jeff," said Rennie worriedly.

"Come on, let's get inside," Alice said. "You're sure you weren't followed?"

"Not that we could tell," James said worriedly.

When they entered the castle, Rumple was waiting in the foyer, scowling, his hands on his hips. "And just where the hell were you all? It's quarter after twelve, you'd better have a good explanation—"

"Shelve your lecture, Rum, Snow's been hurt," Jeff interrupted, half-carrying her into the kitchen.

Rumple took one look at his son, best friend, and daughter and asked, "What in gods' name happened?"

"Snow was attacked on the way home by an assassin sent by Regina," said James.

"Snow?" Rumple repeated. "That's not her name—"

"He knows, Papa," Bae broke in. "She told him herself."

Rumple nodded then followed Jeff into the kitchen, where he had gotten Snow settled in a chair and had given her a towel to dry her eyes. "Dearie, where are you hurt?" he asked the girl, who was as white as her name. "How bad is it?"

"N-Not too bad. He just scraped me, Rum," Snow said, pointing to a tear along the right side of her gown. Some blood stained the blue fabric.

"Let me see," Rumple began.

Then Alice was there, gently shoving him out of the way. "Move over, Dad. This is something a woman needs to look at. I've field-dressed wounds before. Come on, honey, let's go into the bathroom and have a look." She gently helped Snow to her feet. "Rum, where's your medical kit?"

"Belle has it in the hall closet," the sorcerer said, only then realizing that Snow might be embarrassed to have him see to her wound, since she wasn't four like Clary. He summoned it with a wave of his hand and gave it to Alice.

Alice led a partially dazed Snow into the bathroom.

Rumple turned to James, Bae, and Rennie. "All right. Tell me everything."

As they talked, telling Rumple what had happened, Alice removed Snow's torn bodice and examined the shallow slash that ran across her lower ribs. "Hmm. You were lucky, sweetheart. He didn't get a chance to stick you where he wanted."

"I . . . I tripped just as he came at me," Snow whispered.

"Like I said, you were lucky," Alice said, gently cleaning the wound with a washcloth dampened in water. "Did you happen to see his face?"

"No. He . . . I think he was wearing a m-mask. He was all in black."

"A mask? Of black cloth covering his face?" Alice repeated.

Snow nodded, wincing as she gently cleaned the scrape with some antiseptic.

"One of the Brotherhood, I'd wager." Alice frowned, capping the antiseptic and reaching for some wound salve made with honey and tree moss, it was Belle's own recipe. "Regina would have the money to hire one of them. They're the best at what they do."

"The—the Brotherhood?"

"The Black Brothers, they call themselves," Alice said calmly, getting out some linen bandages and making a pad and pressing it to the wound. Then she wound a short strip about Snow's middle, tying it expertly. "There! That should hold you. Let Belle look at it tomorrow, but I think I did a pretty good job." She helped Snow back into the ripped bodice.

Snow stared at the rent in the pretty fabric. "My dress," she mourned.

"Better it than you, honey," Alice said gently. "Come on, you need some hot tea. I'd give you a shot of Golden Boar, but Rumple would have my hide."

She led Snow into the kitchen, where Rumple and Jeff waited.

Rumple had sent the other three up to bed after questioning them all thoroughly. When Snow and Alice emerged from the bathroom, he said, "How bad is it?"

"Nothing serious, Rum. I cleaned it and put some salve on it. She won't even have a scar," Alice said, giving him the medical bag back. "What she really needs is a stiff drink." At his frown, she said quickly, "But tea will work as well."

As she went to put the kettle on, Rumple took Snow's hands in his. "You're shaking like a leaf, dearie."

"Shock," Jeff said gently. "I've done that myself after a battle."

Rumple pulled the shivering girl to him and hugged her. "There now, you're okay, Snow. Don't be scared, he can't get you here. I'll fry him to a crisp if he tries. It's okay, sweetheart." He rubbed her back soothingly.

Snow clung to him, tears dampening his shirt as she sobbed. "I-I . . . didn't see . . . it all happened so fast . . . he c-came out of the shadows like . . . a b-beast . . ."

"They're trained to do that, dearie," Rumple murmured. "But he missed his mark. And he won't get another chance to try again. Trust me." He stroked her hair.

"W-What do I do now?" Snow quavered. "Will I . . . have to stay home?"

Rumple sighed. "That would be the best thing, but I know how much you love school so . . . Jeff and Alice, would you mind being her escorts? To and from school and even while she's there?"

Jeff nodded. "Not a problem, Rum."

"I can follow her without anyone knowing what I'm there for," Alice said, carrying a mug of tea to the table. "I'm between contracts now and my company and I need a place to winter."

"Your men can stay in the village, and you can stay here at the castle," Rumple said. "Belle will be delighted to have you for the holiday." He gently released Snow. "And I'll be looking for that Black Brother with my magical Sight. He'd better pray Regina finds him before I do. Have some tea, dearie. Then I think you'd better get some sleep." He handed her another of his handkerchiefs.

Snow dried her eyes, then asked, "Where's Charm—I mean James?"

"Oh, he's here too. Asleep on the floor in Bae's room. I sent a nightbird to Bea and let her know he's spending the night," the sorcerer replied. "Now drink your tea, there's my girl."

Snow drank the tea, which warmed her considerably. When she had finished, Rumple walked with her to her room and inspected it before letting her inside. He cast several wards about it before saying, "There's nothing to fear, dearie. Will you be able to manage yourself, or do you need Alice to help you undress?"

Before Snow could reply, Alice was there. "I'll help, Snow. Before you pull off my bandage. Get, Rum!"

Rumple left her in Alice's hands, going downstairs with Jeff to check out the bottom floor of the castle and make sure everything was secure.

Once he was gone, Alice helped Snow out of her gown and into a loose nightshirt. Then she unhooked a metal flask from her belt and handed it to the girl. "Take a swig of that, and don't tell Rum."

Snow did, then coughed, her eyes burning. "What—what is that?"

"That's gin, kid. I carry some on me just in case. All mercs do. It serves as an antidote to both infection and shock." She gently turned back the covers and said, "Now get into bed. I'll stay until you're asleep." She hooked the flask back on her belt.

Snow crawled into bed, and as she laid her head on the pillow, Alice sat on the end of the bed, a long knife sheathed in her lap. Then her eyes closed and she was asleep.

Alice waited until the girl was sleeping soundly before padding from the room and heading downstairs to sleep on the sofa. She knew that Rumple and Belle would give her a room eventually, but for now the sofa was a fine bed to someone used to sleeping on the ground. As she shut her eyes, she imagined Belle would hit the roof when she found out what had gone on the next morning.


	48. A Bewitching Birthday

**48**

**A Bewitching Birthday**

"Regina sent an _assassin_ after her?" Belle demanded of Rumple the next morning, after she had finished breakfast and had gone downstairs to the sitting room for a change of scenery. "That—that horrible bloody _witch_! I'd like to rip out her liver and roast it over a fire."

Alice whistled upon hearing that. "See, I knew she'd hit the roof, Rumple," the mercenary captain said.

"And that's tame compared to what _I_ want to do to her," Jeff said hotly. "My version involves some red hot irons and that sort of thing."

"You don't want to know what I feel like doing to her," Rum said angrily. "It's the stuff of nightmares."

"Where's Snow, Rum?" Belle asked then. "I want to take a look at that scratch."

"Still asleep upstairs, I believe," answered her husband. "They all are, they came in late last night, and with all the commotion . . ."

"All right, but when she wakes up, I want to see her. What are we doing about this . . . Black Brother or whatever he calls himself?"

"I have Jeff and Alice guarding her whenever she sets foot out of the castle for now," her husband told her. "And I'm scrying for the bastard in fire and water. Once I find him . . . he better pray to his ancestors for mercy, because I won't have any." His voice was sharp and hard and dark with forbidden promises.

Belle laid a hand on his arm. "Rumplestiltskin . . . what do you plan on doing to him? You won't . . . break your vow, will you?"

"What I'm going to do to him and what I _want_ to do to him are two different things, dearie. But first I have to find him. When I do . . . I'll let you know what I'm going to do. But don't worry, the scum's not worth endangering my soul."

"You think you can find where the snake's hiding?" asked Alice.

Rumple gave her a tight smile. "Alice, there's nowhere in all the realms that yellow-bellied sneak can hide from me. It may take a few days, but I'll locate him, if he's still alive for me to do so. And when I do, he's going to regret trying to hurt Snow, or I'm not the Gold sorcerer. Given the mood I'm in, it may be the last thing he'll ever regret."

"Give him a few kicks from me, Rum," Belle said fiercely.

"Will do, love."

"While I'd love to stay and discuss that scoundrel's imminent death, I do have to make sure my men are quartered properly and my officers make sure they have enough money for food and such," Alice said. She looked over at Jeff. "How about coming with me, Jeff? I can introduce you to them. Since you've quit the Evil Queen's service, what do you say to signing on with me? You could be my second, since Lieutenant Murray's getting married this January and I was looking to replace him. My under-officers are good, but none of them are his caliber. What do you say, realms-walker?"

Jeff looked startled. "Do you really mean that, Captain?"

"No, I'm just talking to hear my own voice," she said sarcastically. "Of course I mean it, Hatter! And I don't offer men the second position in my company on a whim. I know your reputation and I could use someone like you to help me out. Think about it. But in the meantime, come down and meet the boys."

"I will, Alice. And that's the best offer I've had since I joined the Silver Swords," Jeff said happily.

The two rose and walked towards the main entrance, talking of their days as soldiers with enthusiasm.

"It'd be good if he did join her company," Rumple mused as they left the castle. "I know it's been gnawing at him that he's staying here free of charge. He doesn't like living off my charity, even though he's not doing that the way I see it."

"He's a proud man," Belle acknowledged. "If he takes up Alice's offer, they can not only be together, he can have a meaningful job again and they can winter here when they're between contracts."

"I could even pay them while they stay here, to patrol the area around the castle," Rumple said. "After all, it's like his home too, and Alice's if she marries him."

"You don't mind sharing then?"

"Dearie, this castle can house twice what it does now, so two more people makes no difference. We'll open up the east wing and they can have their own suite. Besides, they're all family when it comes down to it."

"You have a generous spirit, Rum."

"He's as much my brother as Alice is like your sister. When I needed an escape from my wretched father, Mary and Jeff gave me one, and their home was like my own when I was growing up. So if I can return the favor, I'll do it."

"And will Rennie and Bae stay here after they're married?" Belle asked.

"Well, that's up to them, but I'd say Bae wants his own space, and I can give them some land near the border of the Mystic Wood for their own little house. I just have to talk with the earth spirits and explain what we're doing, so they don't attack us when we're building Bae and Rennie's cottage. I made a deal with them when I moved in here to leave the land undisturbed unless I requested their permission, so we'd have to chat a bit about it. But as long as they're respectful of the earth, the spirits won't mind."

"Do you make deals with everything you come across, Rum?"

"Mostly. It's how the world works, after all. Give and take. And all magic comes with a price."

"Pity Regina never learned that."

"Oh, she did. She just gets others to pay it for her most of the time," Rumple snorted.

Then he sat next to her on the sofa, and put his arm about her, reveling in this quiet time, which was rare with so many kids about.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Once Belle had examined her wound and pronounced it as little more than a scratch and instructed her to keep it clean, Snow went walking with Charming about the rose arbor, since it was the one place they could have some privacy.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth before . . . about who I really was. But we thought it best to keep it a secret, so Belle made up an alias for me to use when I went outside the castle," Snow told him apologetically.

"I understand. Three can keep a secret, but only if two are dead, as the saying goes," Charming replied. "But I'm glad you trust me now enough to tell me."

"After you saved my life, how could I _not_ trust you?"

Charming shook his head. "I'm amazed that you still want to see me, plain old David James Shepherd, and you being a princess and all."

"_David_ James Shepherd?"

"Ah, didn't I ever tell you that's my full name? It's after my dad, but my mother refused to call two of us David or Davy all the time, so they've called me by my middle name since I was a baby. I've been Jim or James so long sometimes I forget I was actually born David, like my dad."

"Whatever you want to call yourself, you'll always be Charming to me," Snow said, her eyes glowing with love.

He laughed. "You make me feel like some knight on a white horse."

"To me, you are, and it doesn't matter that you're a shepherd's son. Nobility isn't a birthright, as my father used to say, it's something you earn."

Charming cleared his throat, then said softly, "Well, I do have another confession to make. I'm not only a shepherd's son. My mother wasn't always a schoolteacher either. Before she moved to King Jason's realm, she was a distant cousin to King George, and wet nurse to his son, since his queen died giving birth to his son. I wasn't my mother's first child, she had another son before me, and she nursed him and the little prince, she was married first to a noble, Sir Thomas, who served as King George's advisor. But Thomas was killed in some border skirmish just before she bore my brother. Thomas left her in debt, and George agreed to forgive her them if she would nurse his son. She was very young, maybe sixteen then."

"Sixteen?" Snow repeated.

"Yeah, back then the nobility married early, the better to get heirs. Anyway, she was the little prince's, his name was James also, wet nurse. But something happened to him, he took sick with some kind of fever, and he died when he was only three months old," Charming continued.

"How terrible!" Snow said.

"It was, especially because my mother was sure she'd be blamed for letting the prince get sick. So she . . . did what she had to in order to keep King George from executing her," Charming said gravely.

"He . . . would have done that to his own cousin?" Snow gasped.

"George is a petty and cruel ruler, and he's always done whatever he wanted. Everyone at court fears him and his rages, because people die before he's through," Charming explained. "At least, that's how my mom always told it. So . . . to go on with my story, when the prince died, only my mother was there at the time, as it happened during the middle of the night. Now, the prince and my brother looked an awful lot alike, as babies do at that age, and Mom knew George had never really looked closely at his son, he came to see him every so often, but he was busy being king and his son was just a baby. So Mom switched them, and gave up my brother, knowing if George ever found out his son had died on her watch, her life and my brother's too would have been forfeit. Instead, she put my brother into the prince's cradle and pretended her son had died of a fever. Then she was so stricken with grief that she left King George's realm, and found a new home with some distant cousins on her mother's side in King Jason's kingdom of Attica. They lived in the king's city and she got a job being a schoolteacher to a few wealthy families, tutoring their kids. That was how she met my father. He came to the city to sell some of his wool and she was there with her employer's kids and they got to talking and, well, the rest is history."

"Then you _are_ a prince, sort of," Snow said.

"In a way, I guess so," Charming said. "But I was raised a shepherd and Mom always told me to forget I ever had a drop of royal blood in me, it was safer that way. Besides, who wants to be related to King George the Crazy? Not me! I'd feel sorry for my brother, except I've heard he's a rakehell adventurer, and as arrogant as his father. I'm glad to be just Jim Shepherd, Snow."

Snow smiled at him. "You know, I don't think I'd like you half as much if you were a prince. I've known more than a few of them and none of them make me feel like you do."

"Oh? And what way is that?"

"Like I'm someone special. _They_ all smiled to my face and sneered behind my back, they were nice to me because I was Princess Snow White, but they never really cared about me as a person. But you do. Living here with the Golds . . . I have a real family now . . . not the fake one Regina concocted for me. Belle and Rum . . . they've helped me so much . . . they've helped me find myself again . . . find the girl Regina did her best to crush under her boot . . . and help her become whole. So you see, I really am Mary Margaret . . . and Snow White. Like you're James and Charming."

"Whatever you call yourself, you'll always be my girl," Charming murmured, then he hugged her and she leaned against him, listening to his heart beating and for once thanking the fates that had brought her here, so she could meet this young man who touched her in places no other ever had, and who made her feel that she could do anything, because he believed in her.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The leaves changed from summer green to autumn gold as the weeks of October passed. Jeff and Alice kept their word and escorted Snow to and from school and Alice made believe she was a parent checking out the school when Snow was in class, so no one questioned her presence there. She had Rumple change her hair color, eye color, and vary her facial features every day so people wouldn't remember her from the day before using an illusion charm. Bae and James also accompanied the Gold brood to school, with Bae wearing his elven sword and James had Bae's old one, but the assassin never showed his face again.

Others might have assumed the threat was ended, but Rumplestilskin knew better. He knew that a Black Brother never gave up until a contract was fulfilled, and the assassin was still out there somewhere, biding his time. He continued to scry for the wicked killer using both clear water in his stone scrying bowl and also looking into a candle flame, as he was practiced in both methods of divination, though he had better results with fire than water, most times.

But so far he hadn't caught a glimpse of the assassin, but he looked for the killer every morning and evening without fail, for at least an hour each time, until his head ached from prolonged gazing.

Granny came every week without fail to examine Belle, and word had spread that she was now running Belle's practice until she had delivered, so now people came to her with their troubles and illnesses. She shared amusing stories with Belle and Ruby was now a frequent playmate of Kristen's, and at the castle almost as much as Pinocchio, Archie, James, and Ray were.

Due to Granny's diet and energy tonics, Belle was slowly improving, able to stay awake during the day more often and her dizzy spells were not as strong as they had been previously. Alice also helped Belle, Rum, and Jeff with the children now that she was also staying at the castle, so there were less problems Belle had to deal with.

Belle had started going out on nice days to the rose arbor to sit and read with her feet up, wrapped in a blue and white shawl that Rum had woven for her of the Shepherds' softest wool. She usually had tea there with Rumple, Jeff, and Alice or one or two of her children.

One day, a week before Rumple's birthday, which was on Halloween, Jack had gone over to the deBrabante estate to help Ray train Sunny, Archangel's filly. He was gone almost the whole morning, and returned in the afternoon just around the time Belle was having some tea and scones with Rumple in the arbor.

"What on earth happened to you?" she exclaimed upon seeing her horse-mad son, who was covered from head to foot in mud. Mud was even in his hair.

Nick and Rafe happened to be in the yard at that time, as Rafe was teaching Nick how to shoot his small bow. Rafe halted his practice and stared at his younger brother, a smirk pulling up one side of his mouth. "What were you doing, wrestling with Ray? Or did you fall off Sunny?"

Jack sighed. "Sunny got scared and I was holding onto the lead rope and she pulled me across the yard, which was full of mud puddles 'cause it rained yesterday."

"Are you all right?" Belle asked, concerned.

"Uh . . . I'm just scraped up where she dragged me," Jack said, wiping mud off his face. He put a hand to his lower back and winced.

"Do you want me to take a look at you?" his mother offered.

Jack shook his head quickly. "No! I mean . . . I'm fine, Mom, really. I just need a bath."

Belle raised an eyebrow and said softly, "Rum."

That was all, but her husband understood what she wanted and stood up, coming over to his son and saying, "Come on, lad, let me draw a bath for you and see what that horse did to you."

"Aww, Papa, I'm fine!"

"Fine doesn't leave you looking like a mud monster," Rumple returned, then he herded the protesting boy inside, making him take off his shoes and socks before entering the kitchen.

Ivy and Ariel were in the kitchen, making biscuits, and the two girls started snickering as they caught sight of their brother. "Let me guess, you were taking a mud bath!" Ivy chuckled.

"Or having a mud fight," Ariel said. "Nick and Pete did that once and it took forever for Mom to get the mud out of their hair."

"Oh, shut up!" Jack growled, tempted to stomp his foot and make mud fall all over the kitchen floor. The only reason he didn't was because his father was there and he didn't want to get in trouble.

Rumple created a purple disk out of magic large enough for Jack to stand on then said, "Get on that, lad. I can levitate you upstairs so you don't track mud all over and give your sisters extra work to do."

Jack hopped up on the disk and Rumple levitated him a foot or so off the ground, making the disk move slowly across the floor and up the stairs to his bathroom, which had a large sunken tub.

As Rumple ran the water, making it warm, he told his son to take off his clothes and put them on a towel he spread on the floor.

After Jack had done so, Rumple stared at the boy, who had red raw abrasions from the small of his back down to almost his knees. "Gods, Jack! You'll need to soak for awhile and then let me put salve on after."

But when his son went to sit down in the warm water, he whimpered, "Oww! Papa, it's hot. It stings."

Rum set a hand just above his son's injury and numbed the raw flesh. "All right, now try."

Jack sank into the water, and this time didn't worry about the water stinging his raw flesh. As he floated on his belly, Rumple set to work on his hair, using a spell to pull the mud off, then washing it with a shampoo that smelled like pine needles.

He let the boy soak then for another ten minutes and talked to him about training the little filly. "I also hear that Lady Chantel is expecting."

"She is, but she's not real sick like Mom is," Jack said. "Ray's hoping for a little sister. I told him we might get one of each and he thinks it's neat."

"It is at that. Okay, son, come out before you wrinkle up like a prune," Rumple ordered.

Jack obeyed and Rumple dried him off with another spell rather than have him rubbing the scrapes with a towel. He had the boy lie on his stomach on his bed while he put some of Belle's healing salve on, gently coating it over the raw skin. "There, son. I might have to put more on before you go to sleep, so tell me before you come up to bed."

"I will. Thanks. I feel better now."

"Well, that spell hasn't worn off yet. When it does, if you hurt sitting down, tell me and I'll numb you again. Matter of fact, you should wear loose pants until those scrapes heal, so . . ." He pulled a pair of soft cotton breeches from his wardrobe and shrank them so they'd fit, but not be tight. "Here, put these on."

Jack did, then he went to his room to grab another shirt while Rumple sent the dirty clothes and towel down to the laundry room. Satisfied that his son was as comfortable as possible, Rumple made his way back out to the arbor where Belle was napping, sitting beside her until it was time for supper.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Most of the talk at school centered around the upcoming Mischief Night and Halloween, and the Gold children were kept busy carving Jack-o-lanterns and betting each other their yet-to-be-gotten Halloween candy on who had the scariest or the funniest carved pumpkin. They were also designing their trick-or-treating costumes and making presents for Rum for his birthday, though that last they did in secrecy.

A few days before Halloween, June approached Finn as they were walking home from school, looking pensive. "Hey, Finn. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Junie."

"Has anybody . . . ever . . . wrecked things around the castle during Mischief Night? Because Bernard Miller and his friends were saying today that they were gonna come up and smash all our jack-o-lanterns and throw rotten eggs on out porch and paint **Beware the Dark One and his Demons** on our door."

Finn shook his head. "They're all talk, June. Nobody's ever dared do anything to us on Mischief Night, and it's not just 'cause Papa would tickle hex them till they wet themselves. We do something special that night in the courtyard, without magic, even though I wouldn't mind calling up some ghosts to scare them off, that keeps any stupid kid from playing nasty pranks on us."

"Like what?"

Finn smiled secretively. "You'll see. And if that Miller kid or his brother starts anything with you, you come get me and I'll tie him to a tree and let the goblins eat him."

"He's not teased me since Jack and Ray threatened to punch his teeth in."

"Good. And if he's smart, which is iffy for a Miller, he won't either."

June nodded happily. "We have to hurry home, so I can help Elaina finish my costume."

"What are you going as?"

"A rainbow ladybug. And I can make my antennae glow."

Finn laughed. "Good for you! Your light talent will come in handy on Mischief Night."

"It will?"

"Yup. You'll see."

All the children, plus the grown-ups, helped decorate the castle, making the outside and inside resemble a haunted house, with torn curtains, "slime" covered walls, and spider webs. Rum provided the creepy sounds, which wouldn't start until Halloween night, and only occur in certain places, like the front doors, so his younger children wouldn't get terrified.

The boys turned the front lawn into a haunted graveyard, complete with fake bones, fake headstones, and a smashed flat witch on the big tree. "That's Regina," Bae said as he nailed the witch to the tree, making Snow giggle. "Finn, summon up some hanging moss here. Make it blood red, so we can scare those little snots silly."

Finn played several soft notes on his flute and the air sparkled with magic, then strands of hanging moss, red as blood, draped themselves over the oak tree, making the tree look as though it were coated with bloody finger prints. "How's that?"

"Perfect, maestro. Can you summon up mist on Mischief Night? We can make it weave in and out of the headstones."

"Easy as pie, Bae. Just let me know when you want it."

"Right when that oaf Bertrem Miller comes through the bushes," Bae said, referring to the oldest Miller boy, who was his age. "He was bragging down at the Goose yesterday that he was going to come up here with some of his buddies and trash all our pumpkins and the corn display Mom made with the scarecrow. And if he does, I want a nice surprise waiting for him . . . I want to scare him so bad he wets himself."

"June said something like that to me about Bernard, his younger brother. I told her they were full of it."

"Usually they are, but if not . . . we'll give them a Gold Halloween welcome they'll never forget," Bae stated.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

October 30th arrived and Jack, Ray, Pete, and Nick began plotting who they were going to prank for Mischief Night. "We have to ding-dong-ditch the Millers," Jack said. "We've done that to them every year, and they've never caught us."

"Yeah, especially because Bae says they're going to try and smash all our pumpkins and shred our scarecrow," said Nick.

"What kinds of pranks are you allowed to do?" asked Peter. "Mom usually says we can't do anything destructive or harmful to anybody's house or property."

"Papa says the same, only four pranks allowed, and if we ruin anybody's anything we'll get to stay home on Halloween, no trick-or-treating and go to bed early," Jack said.

"But we can make up insulting songs about the Miller boys," Ray said.

"And throw confetti all over their lawn," Nick added.

"Yeah, and we have to prank the Sylvesters too," Peter said. "They called Papa creepy and said Mom was stupid for marrying him."

"That's it, they're in for it," Jack said heatedly. "We'll manure ball them."

"When are we going to do all this?" Ray asked.

"Just as it starts getting dark," Jack said. "Because we have to be back here so we can sit in the courtyard and tell scary stories and drink hot cocoa and cider and eat donuts and candy apples."

"Is that what you guys do on Mischief Night?" asked Nick curiously.

"Yeah, and Ivy makes this big pot of bean and ham soup and corn bread and we all eat it outside. She also makes a salad with cranberries and walnuts. Oh, and caramel corn too. We wait till it gets dark and we sit in the courtyard with blankets and pillows and scare each other silly with ghost stories."

"And that's why nobody can prank your house, right?" asked Ray.

"That's why. Because Papa's right there, and nobody messes with the Dark One."

"Except the stupid Millers," Nick reminded him.

"That sounds cool. Can I come?" Ray wanted to know.

"Of course you can come. But if you do, you have to pay a fee," Jack said.

"Like money?"

"No, like you have to tell a scary story," his friend laughed.

"Oh, I can do that."

"This is going to be great!" Nick said.

Jack just grinned. "I can't wait till it gets dark."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

While the boys were plotting mischief, Rumplestiltskin was scrying up in his tower room, where he could be alone and concentrate the way he needed to. First he used his scrying bowl to scan the surrounding area, searching for any sign of the hidden assassin. He assumed the Brother had to be close by, because he knew the way these assassins operated—they stayed nearby until their target was killed. He narrowed his focus, and brought his Vision down to the village, scanning those walking up and down the streets.

It was possible the assassin was hiding in the village, staying at the inn, perhaps, though Rumple doubted it. The villagers would recognize a stranger come to Valley Way, as there wasn't too many of them, and the inn had been commandeered by Alice's mercs, so room space was at a premium and the assassin would have to share, not something he would want to do at all. Anonymity was his best friend.

But Rumple checked the village anyhow, just to make sure.

Nothing.

He canceled the spell a few moments later, rubbing his temples. Next he would try fire Seeing, as that method was usually more accurate for him, since his affinity was for fire.

As he gazed into the large beeswax candle with its pure white flame dancing atop it, he felt a sudden presence in the lifeweb that surrounded the castle and the grounds. And this presence was dark and cold, and did not fit into the natural order of things, as everything else did, including his children, Belle, and the animals.

A shudder skittered across his spine and he peered harder into the white flame, and hissed, "Show me what I seek. Show me the Dark Brother."

The flame flickered then went clear like a mirror's surface.

And Rumple Saw . . . a clearing in the Mystic Wood, with a simple shelter composed of branches and leaves. A firepit was to the side of it, cold with last night's ashes. Inside the shelter, curled in a ball, slept the assassin.

Rumple grinned, a fierce grin of triumph and he whispered, "I have you now, you unholy bastard."

His first impulse was to descend upon the sleeping murderer and end his life. But then he thought better of that impulse. No, there was a better way to end this creature's existence, a way that did not put him in danger of using his magic to kill for revenge and not self-defense. But he knew he would have to wait till darkness fell.

He blinked, coming out of the trance and looking out the window. The evening shadows had gathered, and soon it would be night. Recalling what else was supposed to happen on this night made him smile. He knew he would have to be there for the opening stories, and then perhaps he could slip away and do what he must and Snow would be safe from that hired killer.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

By the time full dark had fallen, all the children had gathered in the courtyard, along with Belle, Rumple, Jeff, and Alice. Ray had come over, and agreed to pay the forfeit of one scary story. Ivy and Rennie had put the large kettle of soup and bread on the table, along with bowls and spoons. There was also a pot of mulled apple cider with spices and cinnamon sticks and a large carafe of hot cocoa. A bowl of caramel corn sat near the cocoa and candy apples were lined up on a tray, along with some sugar cookies shaped like ghosts and bats and roasted salted pumpkin seeds. There was even a huge platter of cinnamon donuts.

The food table was lit by winking blue and gold mage lights, and pillows and blankets were piled all over in the courtyard as the children and adults ate sitting on them and prepared for the ritual of storytelling. June had lit up her hands so they could all see what they were eating, and the moon soared cold and full overhead.

Belle was sitting on a cushion the boys had dragged off the sofa and several pillows, as they sought to make it as comfortable as possible for her on the somewhat cold ground. Rumple had warmed the stones, so everyone wasn't shivering from the chill night air, and the boys had returned from their round of pranks and were now eating hungrily of the feast spread on the table.

Kristen, Nora, and Jasmine were leaning against Baron, who was lying next to them and they were eating pumpkin seeds and Jasmine was biting into a candy apple, the juice running down her chin. Nora sat with a cup of cider in her lap and was eating a donut and listening to Nick describe how they had rang the Millers' doorbell and then run away laughing down the street.

Belle was eating a bowl of soup and had Clary and Phillip on either side of her, both had cups of cocoa and donuts and Rumple was next to them eating some caramel corn and drinking some cider.

The older boys and girls were munching cookies and apples and sucking cider through the cinnamon sticks, and when everyone was settled down, Rumple said,in a rather deep and somewhat scary tone of voice, "Now . . . let the Mischief Night Ghost Storytelling begin! Belle, would you do the honors by telling us the first story?"

As he spoke, June made her hands flicker off and on, and cast the courtyard into shadow, lit only by moonlight, as Belle began her story, an old one she had learned as a girl in Avonlea, called The Tale of a Drowned Maiden's Hair.

The story was about a girl who had thrown herself off a tower because her betrothed had been killed in a war, and she drowned in the frothing surf, and her hair caught on the rocks below and was all they found of her the next morning. Her father was so devastated by her death that he slept with the hair and each night his daughter's ghost visited him, crying for her father to throw the hair into the sea, so she could rest in peace and be reunited with her lost love.

The story sent chills down the children's spines, and gave them goosebumps, as did the way the wind blew through the trees at the edge of the lawn.

Then Rumple told his tale, of a silly apprentice magician who summoned up a demon in The Fiend in the Bottle. He accompanied his tale with some creepy sound effects and flickering foxfire lights that caused Phillip to jump and Clary to bury her head in Belle's side for much of the story.

Then Jack volunteered to tell the true story of jack-o-lanterns, a creepy tale of a boy who made a deal with a dark devil and sealed it up in a pumpkin, only to have it get released and drag him down into the seventh hell and his family carved faces in their pumpkins to scare away the monsters and lit candles in them to show Jack how to come home again.

Ray told the story of the Headless Soldier, whose ghost haunted battlefields carrying his head under his arm and it talked and had glowing green eyes.

Jasmine told the tale of The Ten Dancing Imps that tormented a faithless caliph for forty days and nights until he went mad and died of fright, his hair turned white as snow.

As Elaina told the tale of the cursed hair piece, that killed all its owners, Rumple excused himself and went back to his tower room, to peer once again into the candle flame.

The assassin was stirring now, just awakening from his sleep.

Rumple bared his teeth and hissed, "You dared to harm an innocent child under my protection. Now pay the price of your folly."

Though Halloween was the night when most of the doors to the spirit realm were opened and the restless dead and dark souls were set free to roam at will, kept at bay only by magical wards and certain traditions, the night before Halloween was also a time when the doorways between the living and dead could be accessed and certain entities summoned, especially if they owed one a favor.

Now Rumple was born the night of Halloween, and to all those born on that date was granted a favor from one of the most powerful entities that roamed the realms, the leader of the Wild Hunt, Herne the Hunter, the old god of the wood and shadow, sometimes evil and sometimes not. One favor was granted to each child, to be used whenever that one saw fit, with a few stipulations. Rumple had learned of that contract when he was a slave to the dagger, but had never called in his favor.

Until now.

Herne's power was active only on the nights of October 30 and 31st, and so his favor could only be redeemed during those times, and it had a physical limit of about ten miles from the one who had called him. So Rumple could not use it to harm Regina, who was too far off in the Enchanted Forest. But he could use it to serve justice upon the Dark Brother in the forest.

He closed his eyes and called into the deepening darkness, "Hear me, Herne the Hunter, the god of the Wild Hunt, of desperate souls lost and found! I, Rumplestiltskin Gold, call due my debt as a child of All Hallow's Eve!"

Three times he shouted that message into the darkness of his tower room, and on the third time there came a shifting in the air, followed by the soft bay of hunting hounds and the laughter of the hunters. A greenish light, as that of a corpse, formed in the air, and a shadowy form stepped through and alighted on the ground, holding the reins of a spectral steed with glowing red eyes.

Herne was taller than a man, with huge shoulders and the antlers of a stag upon his head. His eyes were a cold sepulchral green and he bore a bow and sword in his hands. "So . . . child of All Hallow's Eve . . . you summon me to fulfill my favor. What would you have of me, Rumplestiltskin Gold? Anything you ask that is within my power, I shall grant thee, and then our debt is no more."

Rumple shivered as he felt the ancient power of the god surround him, a power as old as all the realms themselves. He thought carefully before he worded his request. Then he said, "I would ask just this of you, great Herne. There is an assassin in the Mystic Wood not far from here. This man has dared to harm one under my protection, though he failed in killing her. I ask that you and yours give him the justice of the Wild Hunt. Do this and your favor is fulfilled."

Herne snorted. "That is what you wish?"

"Yes. Give me justice for the princess I protect, Great One."

"Your request is granted," Herne cried, and the air rang with a crystal tone. Then he leaped upon his steed and jumped out of the window.

Clouds gathered and obscured the moon and for an instant Rumple saw Herne at the head of a large party of hunters, all mounted on spectral steeds, with slavering hounds with glowing green eyes, whose baying was rumored to drive one mad if they listened to the echoes overlong. Then Herne extended a hand, and a glowing purple portal opened and the Hunt raced through it, accompanied by an unearthly howling and wailing that turned Rumple cold to the marrow of his bones.

He moved back to the candle, and peered again into the flame.

He Saw the assassin start as he emerged from the shelter, one hand gripping his knife as he turned to see where the source of that horrible wailing was coming from.

Herne and the Hunt descended from the sky and the assassin howled, realizing too late what it was that was unleashed and he began to run through the trees, trying to escape.

But no mortal can escape the Hunt when it seeks a quarry.

The assassin ran, but the Hunt pursued relentlessly, and within a matter of seven minutes, the Brother had been run to ground and slain by Herne and some of the pack of hellish dogs.

Then Herne called, "Now rise again, and join your fellows, for such is the justice of the Wild Hunt, to be of our number for all eternity, cursed to ride on darkness' wings!"

And the assassin's body changed, becoming a spirit, and he was joined to the unholy hunt forevermore.

As soon as that was done, the Wild Hunt vanished.

Rumple sagged against the table where the candle was, suddenly exhausted. He could feel the weight of the debt now lifted from him. Justice had been served and Snow was safe . . . for the time being . . .

The sorcerer made his way back downstairs to the courtyard and returned to his beloved wife and family, who were beginning a second round of stories. He snuggled next to Belle, who looked at him and said, "Rum, where did you go?"

"To take care of some business, Belle. I'll tell you later. Let's listen to Kristen's story," he said, and reheated his mug of cider and drank it down.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It was when Jeff was telling the chilling story of The Shifted Heart, an old mercenary ghost story, that Bae, who was sitting on the edge of the courtyard, closest to the pretend graveyard on the lawn, heard the sound of several feet crashing through the brush, coming up the trail.

"Gods, they really were stupid enough to do it," he muttered, then beckoned to Rafe, Finn, and Peter.

Rumple also heard and half-rose, a Tickle Me hex on his lips, when Bae said, "We've got this, Papa."

"If you're sure?"

"We are," said Rafe and the four boys slipped off into the fake graveyard and hid among the headstones and the tree with the flattened witch.

"What's happening?" asked June nervously.

"Don't worry, Junie. Bae and the other boys are going to scare away the Miller brothers," Jack said.

Soon they could hear the stomping and sniggering of Bertram and his brothers, including Bernard, who had tormented June for her magical talent.

"I can't believe they're so dumb!" hissed Pete.

"They sound like they're drunk," Rafe muttered.

"They probably are. It's the only way they'd have the guts to come up here," Bae whispered back. "Okay. Get ready, Finn. When I whistle, call the mist."

Bae waited until Bertrem and his next younger brother Bart were in sight, carrying paint cans and what looked like baskets of eggs, before he gave a low whistle.

Finn put his flute to his lips and played a haunting shrill wail, and green mist surged up from the ground and surrounded the graveyard and everything within it.

"Huh? Where'd this come from?" sputtered Bart.

"Hey! I can't see, Bert!" yelped Bernard.

"Neither can I!" cried Bentley, the third brother.

"Just keep moving! We'll get to the end of it, then we can trash the pumpkins and paint the door. And we'll leave the rotten eggs right where they can step on 'em and wreck their scarecrow." Bertrem called. "We'll teach those weird Golds who's boss! Sorcerer's scum!"

That was when Rafe jumped out from behind a headstone with an eerie scream, imitating Rowan when she was hunting something.

At the same time, Bae tripped Bertrem, knocking him down among the headstones.

Finn played a quick set of notes on his flute, making horrible keening noises.

And Peter reached out and snagged Bernard's ankle.

"Ahh! It's got me!" Bernard screamed, trying to run, but Peter held him fast.

"Where?" screeched Bentley, turning in circles.

"Help! Something's coming after me!" wailed Bertrem, scrambling to his feet and trying to run, but tripping over his own feet and falling over.

Bae made a loud growling noise.

The Miller brothers panicked then.

"Ahh! It's that bear!"

"No, it's a beast!"

"Help! Mommy, it's gonna eat us!"

"Run for your lives!"

"Bert, it's biting off my foot!" Bernard shrieked, just as Peter let him go.

Finn made his flute howl like banshee, scaring the four boys to pieces.

They took to their heels, all thoughts of mischief fled, as they practically trampled each other trying to get away from the monsters that roamed the grounds of the Dark Castle, sobbing and whimpering for their mother all the way back down the trail to the village.

Finn then banished the green mist, revealing the headstones on the lawn and they all high-fived each other.

"Oh, gods, that was the best!" Bae snickered.

"Did you see them run like little babies?" Rafe hooted. "I want my mommy!"

"They're probably running to hide under the bed," Finn said.

"Like chickens! Bock! Bock!" Peter laughed.

"I don't think they'll come out till next Halloween!" Jack said, clapping.

Then they went and sat down and finished the rest of the stories until it was bedtime.

When all the children were in bed at last, Rumple told Belle what he had done and how the assassin was now rendered harmless forever.

"Thank goodness!" Belle said, hugging him. "Now poor Snow can stop jumping at shadows and worrying."

"For now. But I'll still have Jeff and Alice escort her places. There's no telling what Regina will try next."

"Well, get some sleep, Rum. You have a busy day tomorrow," his wife said.

"What are you plotting, wife?"

"You'll find out. I love you, sorcerer mine. Good night."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Halloween dawned sunny and cloudless. Rumple woke at his usual time of six thirty in the morning, and was promptly told to go back to sleep by Belle. So he did, and when he woke up again at eight, found she had brought him breakfast, which was a ham and cheese omelet, toast with jam, crispy potatoes, and coffee. There were two rosebuds on the tray also, one orange and one purple.

"Happy birthday, Rum!" she greeted him with a kiss.

"Now that's what I want to wake up to every morning, dearie," he teased. "Thank you."

She stayed with him while he ate, sipping on some tea. "You can do whatever you want today, love. Enjoy it."

"This day just keeps getting better and better," he smiled, eating a piece of toast. "But I do have to fix the decorations on the porch."

"After you eat," his wife said. "The kids don't start trick-or-treating till around three o'clock, so there's no need to rush."

"Believe me, I'm not," her husband said, and continued eating.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In the afternoon, the younger village children began their rounds of trick-or-treating. In prior years, they never got many children coming to the castle, but this year, it seemed, was different. Many of the younger set, who had been to Phillip's party, now came to the door in costume with their sacks and pails in hand, ringing on the bell and jumping at the talking skeleton and scarecrow sitting on the porch on either side of the doors, which greeted the visitors.

Rennie, Rumple, and Belle answered the door, Rennie was dressed like a black cat, and Belle as a milk maid, since the loose dress fit her over her protruding stomach. Rumple had on his deep blue velvet sorcerer robes, with embroidered gold runes and moons and stars, tied with a gold sash and his gold boots, looking like a storybook version of himself.

They gave out chocolate bars, popcorn balls, candy apples, and glow-in-the-dark pencils, which were in a large bowl with a hand in the middle of it that picked up the treats and handed them to the child once they had picked which one they wanted. Each child got one treat and a pencil.

Rumple opened the door to find Annie Pelham, the baker on the porch with her youngest, Belinda, beside her, dressed as a pink cupcake. Belinda was five, a cute blond girl, and she was looking at the talking skeleton sitting on a hay bale and saying, "But Mom, if he's dead, how's he talking?"

The skeleton was turning his head and saying, "Good evening," in a creaky voice.

"Belinda, I have no idea," Annie said, sounding rather exasperated.

Rumple opened the door, holding the bowl of treats in one hand. "Hello, Annie! Hello, Belinda! You look good enough to eat!"

"Trick-or-treat, Master Gold!" Belinda sang. "Mama made my costume."

"It's lovely, dearie. Now what would you like? You can pick one treat and a pencil."

Belinda pointed to the skeleton. "I wanna know how he works."

Rumple laughed. "It's magic, dearie."

He moved a finger slightly, and the skeleton tipped his hat to her.

"What's he called?"

Annie sighed. "Belinda, for gods' sake! Don't pester Master Gold with your endless questions."

"It's all right, Annie. I don't mind," Rumple said. "His name's Mr. Bones, sweetie."

Just then the scarecrow blinked and said, "Happy Halloween! That's all I say, 'cause I have no brain."

Belinda's eyes went wide. "How come he's got no brains? Did they all fall out?"

"His head's stuffed with straw, dearie. So he has no room for one," Rumple told her.

"Oh. What's he called?"

"That's Scary. My daughter Clary named them," Rumple said, then held out the bowl of candy. The hand in the center moved.

Belinda gasped. "Is that a real hand? Who's was it?"

"Belinda!"

Rumple winked at Annie. "It used to belong to a wicked pirate." It was actually made of plaster and animated by magic.

"Neat! What'd you cut it off with?"

"Oh, good heavens, child!" Annie cried. "She always wants to know the strangest things."

"Something very sharp. Just tell him what you want and he'll hand it to you," Rumple said.

"Uh . . . I want a chocolate bar," Belinda said. "Is the hand magic too?"

"Certainly," said Rumple, and the hand picked up a chocolate bar and gave it to Belinda, along with a pencil.

"What do you say, Belinda?" Annie prompted.

"Thanks!"

"Rum, who are you talking to?" asked Belle, coming over to him. "Oh, hello, Mistress Pelham! Happy Halloween!"

"Same to you, Healer Belle," the baker replied.

Belinda was staring at Belle, chewing her lower lip. Then she burst out with, "Healer Belle, how come you're so fat now?"

Annie looked like she wanted to sink into the ground.

Before she could scold her daughter, however, Clary cried, "Hey! My mama's not fat. She's having two babies!" Clary came to stand in front of Belle, dressed in a bunny suit with her rabbit ears drooping on one side of her head. Elaina had painted her face to look like a bunny's, with a black nose and whiskers. She was frowning at the other child.

"She is?" Belinda repeated. "How do you know?"

"'Cause Granny Lucas said so, and she knows everything about babies," Clary informed Belinda.

"Oh. But how'd they get in there?" Belinda asked.

Clary rolled her eyes. "They was _born_ there. Don'tcha know anything?"

It was a moment before Rumple could regain his breath, he was laughing so hard. "Now do you see why I don't mind Belinda asking questions? Because I have one just like her!"

Annie wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "You and me both, Master Gold! May the gods help us."

"Come in and have a pumpkin muffin, Annie," Belle invited her, also giggling.

"Don't mind if I do, Belle."

As they walked into the castle, Belinda said to Clary, "What're they laughing at?"

Clary shrugged. "I dunno. They're grown-ups, they think everything's funny."

"Have you gone trick-or-treating yet?" Belinda wanted to know.

"No. My big brother Bae's gonna take me. I'm gonna have Sweetie pull me in my cart," Clary said.

"Who's Sweetie? Your dog?"

"No. Sweetie's my unicorn."

"You've got a unicorn for a pet?" Belinda cried. "Cool! Mom, I want a unicorn too!"

"What unicorn, Belinda? And don't shout. Remember your manners."

"The one Clary's got," Belinda said.

"You can pet her. Sweetie, come!" Clary called. "She's in the yard." She opened the kitchen door and the little unicorn trotted into the kitchen, nuzzling Clary for treats. "See? Here she is!"

"Aww! How cute!" Belinda squealed, and ran over to hug the filly, who whinnied and nuzzled her as well.

"You can give her some sugar," Clary said, and handed Belinda a sugar lump.

Belinda giggled as Sweetie took it from her hand. "She tickles!"

"Clary, why don't you take Belinda outside and let her ride in your cart?" Belle suggested.

"Okay, Mama! But I need Bae to help me," Clary said, then she scampered to the foot of the staircase and yelled up it, "Hey, Baelfire! Come and help me get Sweetie's cart!"

"Hey, Clarissa!" came Bae's voice from up above. "What happened to please?"

"Okay! _Please_, Bae!"

Bae came downstairs then. "Come on, bunny rabbit. You too, cupcake." He whistled and Sweetie came and followed him as they went outside to the barn to get the little pony cart and hitch the unicorn to it.

Soon the two little girls were riding in the cart, which was just big enough for the two of them, and Sweetie was pulling them about the yard, while they squealed and yelled excitedly.

"My gods! They're worse than banshees!" Bae muttered, shaking his head. But he was smiling.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The kids went trick-or-treating in batches, so they all got a chance to get some candy before heading back to the castle at six o'clock for Rumple's birthday celebration. Usually the younger kids went with one or two older ones, so no one tried to take their candy, which nearly happened to Phillip, who had run with Pinocchio down a street and gotten ahead of Finn and Ariel.

They rounded a corner and ran smack into Bertrem Miller and his gang, who were all bigger and older than they were, six of them. As Phillip slid to a stop, his dragon tail of his costume drooping into the dirt, Bertrem sneered. "Well, looky here, guys! If it isn't Phillip Gold, the little snot who complained about his name so much he got a teacher thrown out of school! Hey, brat, give us all your candy or else we'll take it and beat the snot out of you!"

Phillip shivered, clutching his sack of candy closer. "Get away from me, Miller. Before my brothers come and beat you up!"

Betertrem hooted. "I don't see anybody, do you? Cough it up, daddy's girl! You and puppeteer boy, right now!

Just then Finn and Ariel came down the street. "Miller, leave my kid brother alone!" Finn yelled, clenching both fists. "Before I rearrange your face."

Bertrem looked alarmed, but then laughed, "You and what army, musicker?"

Finn whistled, a special three note call that would bring any of his siblings nearby to help, as it meant one of them was in trouble. "Miller, you idiot! I'm not the only brother he's got." He slid to a stop next to Phillip, and so did Ariel, and both of them glared at the older boys.

"Picking on little kids!" Ariel spat. "You're nothing but a pack of bullies."

"Why don't you cry about it, fish-tail girl?" demanded Bentley cruelly.

As it turned out, all the siblings were nearby, as they had begun to gather on the main street, and soon Bertrem and company found themselves facing twenty or so pairs of angry eyes, as first Jack and Ray, Jasmine, Aurora, and Archie showed up and then the rest of them. Bae was the last to arrive with Clary and Sweetie, but he marched right up to Bertrem and said coldly, "You want to start something, Miller, go ahead. But we'll finish it. You pick on one Gold, you pick on all of us."

"Still want to take his candy, dumb ox?" Finn asked.

Faced with sudden annihilation should he continue, Bertrem shook his head and backed away, and then so did the rest of them. Before you could say Jack Sprat, they had melted away down the street.

"Come on, let's go home," Bae said. "We promised to be back at six and it's five thirty," he reminded them.

After saying goodbye to their friends, the Gold children returned to the castle, looking like they'd raided a candy store. Or three. Belle directed them to put their candy down on the table, since no one was allowed to eat any before it was inspected by her and Rumple.

The kids all went upstairs to get changed before coming into the dining room for dinner. In addition to the family, which included Alice, Jeff, and Snow, the Shepherds had come by also and everyone quickly gathered around the table.

In honor of Rum's birthday, there was a barbecued pig and another of venison which Rafe had shot that morning. There was creamed spinach and baked potatoes, buttered corn, brown sugar baked beans, and cucumber tomato salad plus fresh bread with butter or rose petal jam. There was Galadriel white wine for the adults and ginger beer and pear cider or milk for the children.

Belle lifted her glass of sparkling cider in a toast. "To my wonderful husband. You have made my life so special and here's a list of one hundred and one ways how. Happy birthday, Rum, and many more!" Then she handed him a paper and drank her cider.

Everyone drank and then they started eating all of the delicious food until they were stuffed. Rumple took some of everything there and then just looked at it and back at his wife and grinned. "I've never been so glad to celebrate my birthday as I am now, Belle."

"Good, because this is only the beginning," she promised, giving him a wicked grin.

After dinner was over, Ivy brought in the cake and some cookies, the cake was a triple layer chocolate with all thirty-six candles alight on it and as she set it down in front of her father, Jeff remarked, "Think you can blow them all out, old timer?"

Rumple looked over at him and said, "Who are you calling old, Jeff? It'll be your turn in February."

"Yeah, but I'm not turning fifty."

"Forgot how to count, Hatter? I'm only thirty-six!"

"Blow out your candles, Papa!" urged Phillip. "Before the cake melts."

"And no magic, Rum!" Alice teased, smirking.

Rumple rolled his eyes, then breathed in and out twice, as they all sang happy birthday. On the third time he gave one long sustained breath and all the candles went out. "You were saying?"

"What'd you wish for?" Phillip wanted to know.

"If I tell, it won't come true," his father smiled, though he hadn't known quite what to wish for, since he had everything he wanted, and so wished for everyone in the family to be happy and healthy. "Now let's eat some cake."

"You get the first piece," Ivy said, cutting it and handing it to him. "How is it?"

Rumple tasted it. Then he said, "Ivy, dearie, this is good enough to start a second Ogre Wars over."

Ivy hugged him. "Glad you like your present, Papa. It was baked with love."

Rumple hugged her back. "The best presents usually are, my clever girl."

"She made your dinner with me too," Rennie said.

"Which was incredible, Rennie. Thank you."

As if that was a signal, all the kids went and got the presents they had made for their father.

From Bae was a handsome new cane, which he'd carved from a piece of black oak, and the top of it was a dragon's head with gold eyes. "I figured you could use a new one, Papa."

"This is beautiful work, son. That dragon looks like it can breathe fire." Rumple said, gently caressing it.

From Mistress Beatrice and James was a journal, made of extra supple blue dyed leather and parchment cured from their own sheep. It had his initials stamped on the cover in gold pressed ink. "Now how'd you know I needed this?" he queried.

"A little bird told me," Beatrice said, winking.

Jeff and Alice gave him a rather unusual present, they had commissioned an artist to do a family portrait and he would be coming in November for the sitting. "We figured you could use something to fill that blank wall in the foyer, buddy."

"True, Jeff. And you do know you're going to be in it too."

"What? Aww, Rum! I hate sitting still!"

"Last I checked, you were my honorary brother, so . . . you're in it, Jefferson," Rumple insisted.

Jeff blushed. "Hells, okay, Rum. It's your birthday, I'll humor you."

"This is from me, Aurora, and Jasmine, Papa," said Elaina, handing him a prettily wrapped square package.

Rumple opened it to reveal an entire suit of clothes, including a hat with a rare golden firebird feather in it. It was mainly silk, consisting of deep blue breeches, a sash with embroidered phoenixes on it made by Jasmine, a calfskin vest with the Gold crest on it, and a golden silk shirt with a mandarin collar. "When did you find time to make this, girls? You must have spun and wove your fingers off!"

"We stayed up late while you were sleeping," Aurora laughed.

"This is fit for a king, dearie, not a common sorcerer."

"Only the best is good enough for you, Papa," Elaina stated and hugged him.

Snow came up shyly and handed him a small box. "This is from me, Rum."

Rumple opened it to reveal a simple gold chain bracelet with an R in the middle of it. "Snow, this is lovely!"

"I didn't make it, but it's some of Jared's best work."

"This will go perfectly with my new outfit."

Peter made him an entire set of rune bones, sculpting them from special white clay, along with a velvet drawstring pouch to store them in. "I did them in art class."

"I didn't know you liked to sculpt," Rumple exclaimed. "Another artisan in the family."

"And I made you this, Papa!" Clary said, running up and giving him a small sculpture of a unicorn. "Pete helped, it's a paperweight of Sweetie."

"That's going right on my desk, Clary!" Rumple said, hugging her. The unicorn's horn was lopsided, but he thought it was wonderful anyhow.

Tom gave him a miniature brooch of a phoenix, drawn by himself.

"This is wonderful, Tom! You could probably paint that portrait Jeff commissioned."

"Yeah, but it would take me years, Papa!"

They all laughed and then Rafe and Jack gave him a new pair of boots to go with his clothes, of fine deerskin. Rumple stroked the soft suede and said, "Rafe, you made these, right?"

"Yeah, they're from the deer I shot a few weeks ago. Jack and I tanned them and I sewed everything together. They're coated with special oils so they're waterproof and soft, so you can walk quietly."

"Thank you both, boys. I doubt if John Middleton could have made me better."

Finn and Ariel sang him a song they had composed, which almost brought him to tears. From the twins was a set of jeweled-tone inks and quills. June and Kristen gave him a blue lapis pendant which could glow bright as noon on command.

Phillip gave him a picture frame he had made of pretty bits of glass and seashells, and inside it was a drawing of himself and Rum. "It's not as good as Tom's, Papa."

"It's excellent, Phillip. Thank you, son."

Belle went last, handing him a small box.

Inside it was a crystal vial filled with a bluish potion. "What's this, love?"

"It's a tonic for your leg, Rum. I've spent the past week with Granny, discussing herbal mixtures and such and I came up with this formula that will hopefully help your leg more than your old one. I know how much it pains you when it's cold out, so hopefully this helps."

"Ah, Belle! I'm going to try it out first thing tomorrow morning, because a cold snap is coming," Rumple said. "I'm so lucky to have such a talented family."

Then he kissed her, one brief kiss that nevertheless held all the love he bore for her in it.

As she drew away from him, she whispered, "There's something else I need to share with you, Rum, but it has to wait until we're alone. And it's not just what you're thinking!"

He smirked wickedly. "And what's that, dearie?"

She smacked his arm. "Rumplestiltskin, control yourself!"

"Sweetheart, I am . . . for now."

She blushed a dusky rose, then said, "I can't wait to show you my other surprise."

"I love surprises, dearie. Especially yours," he purred.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Once they were alone, Belle carefully locking the door to their bedroom, the Healer quickly undressed and got into a comfortable nightshirt. Then she lay down on their bed and called, "Rum, come here."

"What is it, love?" he emerged from their bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of soft trousers. His eyes alight with love, he got into bed next to her. "Is it that surprise you promised?"

Grinning, Belle took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "Just wait."

Rumple blinked. "What—" then his eyes went wide as he felt something stir beneath his hand.

"Can you feel that, Rum? It's our babies. They're moving!"

He pressed the palm of his hand harder against her stomach, gasping. "Oh! I think I felt one of them kick me. Right there!" His eyes were wide with awe.

She put a hand over his and said, "I felt them moving a few days ago, but I wanted to wait till your birthday to let you feel them. Here, feel this. I think one of them moved a hand." She took his hand and placed it on her right side.

An instant later, he felt more movement. "My gods, Belle! That's the most magical thing ever," he said, overcome with joy. He kept his hand on her belly, his heart swelling with love each time one of the babies moved in her womb. Until then, he hadn't felt such a deep connection with them, but feeling them stir beneath his hand made his heart contract with a deep and abiding love for them, his unborn twins, the miracle he had created with his beloved Healer.

He lay there, his hand cupping her belly, smiling proudly, until the babies within quit moving. "I think they're sleeping now."

"Yes. I think they got excited when I ate the cake before." She took his hand and brought it to her lips. "Then again, your touch always excites me."

He laughed huskily. "Just being near you excites me, sweetheart. But this . . . is the best present ever." His hand splayed once more over her taut stomach, then he brought it up to cup her chin in his hand and kiss her breathless.

**A/N: So how'd you like that? A special thanks to cynicsquest for giving me ideas for Rum's presents. **


	49. Winter Wonderland

**49**

**Winter Wonderland**

November blew in like a frost dragon, bringing chill winds and frigid temperatures the second week of the month. Luckily the wheat and corn crops had all been gathered back in October, so the animals had enough food and bedding for the winter. The vegetable garden had been harvested and stored down in the castle cellar, some things were hanging from the ceiling and others had been canned or preserved. Rafe, Peter, and Rowan had managed to bring down a moose and several deer and they had obtained the meat from three pigs from the butcher, so there was plenty of ham, bacon, sausage, and pork of all sorts to go around.

With food in plentiful supply, even for such a large family, the Golds had only to worry about school, the weather, Belle's progressing pregnancy, and the upcoming winter holiday.

The first winter storm blew in the second week of November, school was cancelled for three days, and left a coating of snow sixteen and a half inches thick on the ground, a foot of ice on the pond, and a need to shovel paths to and from the barn and chicken coop. It also set Rumple's leg to throbbing, and now Belle's new tonic came in very handy, as he drank it before the pain got too bad and so avoided much of the stress and irritability that often accompanied his flare ups.

Belle grew rounder and more awkward when she moved around, her ankles swelling slightly and her feet aching. Rumple wove her a pair of slippers lined with sheepskin that soothed her achy feet and now she wore them only as she walked about the castle. He also insisted she rest and put her feet up for most of the day, and Granny seconded him, so Belle shelved her irritation, mostly with herself for not being able to do everything she wanted to accomplish, and followed their advice.

Granny had taken the lupinessence potion at the full moon the last week of October, and to her delight and shock, it had worked. She had transformed into a full wolf, and not the crazed were creature, and in that form had hunted a rabbit and ate it, sating her hunger and remaining a true creature of the forest and not cursed and hated by all. She asked Rumple to please make more of the formula for her and also for Ruby. Rumple agreed to make her enough for the next three months, for both her and her granddaughter.

The day of the first snowstorm caught them all unawares, though later Rum said he ought to have cast the bones to let him know about it. Ruby was at the castle, learning how to mend a bridle from Kristen, when the storm hit. She stared at the window in dismay at the huge fat flakes falling and cried, "Oh no! How am I going to get home? By the time I get to Granny's house, I'll freeze."

"Don't worry, Ruby. Granny knows you're here and we would never send you home in this, so she'll just assume you're staying over," Belle said soothingly.

"Yes! Now I get to have a friend sleep over!" Kristen said happily.

"Aww, I wish Pinocchio was stuck here too," Phillip said. "But he had to stay home in bed, since he came down with a cold."

The storm trapped them all inside that afternoon, and it wasn't too bad at first, because there was plenty of things to mend, like torn socks and holes in trousers, so the girls were kept busy doing that and the boys were fixing and oiling bridles and saddles and boots also, since Rafe knew how to patch leather. Rumple spun more straw into gold on his wheel, which fascinated Ruby, who stood there and watched him in awe.

"Is your wheel magic, Master Gold?" she asked.

"No, dearie. The wheel is an ordinary one, the magic's in me," he wriggled a hand at her, showing her the fine glisten of gold dust on it. "When I touch the straw, I set the magic in motion, and as I spin, the straw transmutes itself to gold."

"Can you spin other stuff too?"

Rumple nodded. "Yes, I can spin wool to silk and cotton as well. I can make my colored threads brighter and more durable."

"Do all your kids wear things spun from you?"

"Most of them, yes. But Rory spins too and so do Elaina and Kristen. They can all make clothes."

"Granny says my cape is magical too. Does that mean a magician made it?"

"Well, it depends. If the magician knew magic like mine, then it's woven into the fibers. But if not, it could be placed over the cape when it was finished. If you let me see it, I'll be able to tell how it was spelled."

Ruby ran to get her red cape and handed it to him.

"Ah. Yes, the cape was made well, but there's no magic in the cloth or thread, the spell was set later. Very good workmanship, though." He handed it back to her. He continued to spin more straw for a moment, then turned to the girl at his elbow and said, "Has Granny taught you how to spin yet, Ruby?"

"Um . . . she was going to, but then she got busy with patients. I can sew buttons though. And hem things."

"Would you like a lesson from me?" Rumple asked. "It's not hard and it'll pass the time."

"Thanks, Master Gold," Ruby smiled at him.

"All right, come sit here," Rumple rose and allowed her to sit at his wheel, where he patiently showed her how to spin an ordinary skein of wool.

At first Ruby found she was clumsy, the wool fell off the wheel or tangled and once or twice she caught her finger, and she feared she looked like the village idiot to Rumple. "I'm sorry. I just . . ."

"It takes lots of practice, dearie. When my mother showed me, I was just as fumble-fingered as you were. And you wouldn't believe how many times I caught my fingers. You'll get it eventually, if you try hard enough."

Finally, after half-an-hour, Ruby spun a long thread. It was rather lumpy in places, but it coiled around the bobbin and had small flecks of gold dust in it. "I did it!"

"Yes, very good for a first try," Rumple praised her. Then he handed her the spool. "Take this home and show your granny, dearie. She'll probably want to save it, it's your first spun thread."

Ruby took the spool and put it in her pocket. "Can we, maybe, do this again, Master Gold?"

"Certainly. If you want to have lessons with me, I'll arrange something with Granny. Perhaps on the days she comes to see Belle, we can have lessons."

"I'd like that," Ruby said, then she scampered over to show Kristen her thread.

June and Nora were drawing pictures with thimbles on the icy windows, along with Tom, making snowflakes and other designs.

"It's too bad we couldn't paint these, and make the windows have colored glass in them," he said to his sisters.

"But we can make suncatchers," said June. "Granny Maisy taught me how to do that. It's the one time she wasn't yelling at me for something."

"How do you do them?" asked Tom.

"Well, you need some glass fragments and a very thin paint, like a glaze, that's translucent. Then you make a frame out of wire, of anything you want, and glue the glass in it, Grandma Maisy always did that part for me, and then after the glue sets, you paint it."

"Cool! Let's do it!" Tom exclaimed.

They asked Rum where they could find glass and wire, and he went down to his lab and took apart several glass beakers with his magic, giving them pieces that were small enough to shape into things and weren't sharp. He also gave them a length of sturdy wire wrap that they used to mend fences. Using a pair of wire cutters, the girls cut the wire into certain lengths and made different objects, like birds and animals. Then they used some magic glue, the same kind that Belle had glued her eye shut with, to set the glass in the frames.

Rumple explained they would have to wait for the paint until he could go over to the village and talk to one of the potters who lived there. Then he taught the girls how to play cat's cradle with yarn, and they kept busy that way, along with Tom, who showed them some geometry using the yarn.

By the second day, the storm had blown itself out, but it was so cold that Rumple had to cast warmth charms on Bae, Rafe, Jack, and Peter when they went outside to feed the horses, Bluebird, the chickens, sheep, and the goats. The wind was horrible too, it blew snow everywhere and made drifts higher than a man's head. Ice coated everything and Rumple had to warm the ground to melt a path so the boys didn't slip and fall coming to and from the barn to the house, or he did either.

Some of his more active children begged to go outside and start a snow war, but both Belle and he told them to wait till tomorrow, when it wouldn't be so frigid. The children sulked and quarreled with one another so much that day that Belle went upstairs to her room to get away from it before she spanked them for driving her nuts, and Alice went with her as well.

"If I hear one more so-and-so did this to me, Papa, you're all going to bed right now!" Rumple said sternly, frowning at the younger children, who seemed incapable of getting along right then.

That stopped the bickering . . . for a moment. Jefferson, who had been busy mending his scabbard, set it aside and said sympathetically to his friend, "Rum, I have one word for what these kids are right now. Crazy."

"Jeff, I have two words for you," Rumple returned. "Help me."

Jeff's idea was to have a scavenger hunt in the castle, giving each team of children, they split into four groups, a list of items to find. The study and their parents' and Alice's bedroom was off limits. So was Rum's lab, but that went without saying as it was always locked.

"What do we get if we win?" Nick wanted to know.

"You get to stop being bored and driving your father and me insane," their uncle replied.

"Aww, Uncle Jeff!"

"And you pick dinner tonight," Rumple conceded. "Now get!"

The children scattered, rushing all over the castle, looking high and low for the items Jeff had printed on their various lists.

"Thanks, Jeff," sighed Rum. "I was about ready to use a silence spell and muzzle them all."

"Anytime, buddy," said his best friend, and then he went back to rewrapping the leather cord about his scabbard. He had now signed on with Alice and was her second-in-command, Lieutenant Hatter, once again, and he had to get his gear in order for spring when they would take on new contracts.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

On the third day, it was less frigid and the wind had died down some, and Belle and Rumple agreed to allow the kids to go outside for a few hours to keep tempers from flaring and the kids from going stir crazy. They all put on hats, gloves, scarves, muffs, and boots and rushed outside to play. But when Phillip got to the closet to put on a pair of boots, he found all of them gone except an old pair of Bae's, which were like monster feet on him. "Aww, chickenfluff!" he sighed, and put them on anyway, since they were better than wearing his shoes, which would get snow in them and make his feet freeze in no time.

But when he came to the end of the shoveled path and tried to join the others in building a snow fort, he took one step and pulled his feet right out of the boots! Yelping because now his left foot was covered in snow, he hopped backwards and almost fell over before a pair of large hands caught him.

"You need to do a bit more growing, Phil, before you try and fill my boots," Bae chuckled, picking up the younger boy and putting him on his shoulder.

"Bae, it's not fair!" Phillip whimpered. "I've got no boots that fit and yours are too big and I can't walk."

Bae picked up his old boots and said, "Don't get upset, kid, we'll just ask Papa to adjust these."

"He can do that?"

"Sure, he's a magician, right?" Bae took Phillip inside, where they found Rumple reading on the settle, with Belle's slippered feet tucked in his lap.

"Papa, Phil needs these adjusted so he can play outside with the rest of us," Bae told him.

"Let's see what I can do," Rumple said, and set his book down. "Put him down, Bae. I need to measure his feet."

Bae set Phillip down next to his father, and Rumple snatched a measurement string from Belle's sewing basket and measured the seven-year-old's feet. Once he'd gotten an approximate size, he shrunk Bae's boots till they fit Phillip. "There! Try these on now, son."

Phillip sat on half on Rum's knee and pulled on his newly altered boots. "They're great!" He jumped up and yelled, "I'm going outside, Bae! And I'm gonna clobber Nick!"

As Bae followed him, he heard Belle say, "Gods, I forgot he might need new boots, he's growing so fast, they all are . . ."

"He can use those for the time being, love, and we'll make him some new ones for a Winter Solstice gift," Rumple said practically.

The holiday was coming up next month and traditionally gifts were exchanged during the days of December 22-23rd between parents and children or sweethearts. On December 24th was the night when the good patron being of children, Santa Claus, visited in his magical sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer, coming at midnight to leave all the good children of the realms gifts in their stockings and beneath a solstice tree. Santa wasn't quite immortal, but close enough to it, and though he wasn't quite a god either, his fame among the realms was like enough to one to grant him special magical powers, solstice magic, which he used to transport himself all over the realms in a single night, delivering presents to all the good children. The naughty ones, it was said, got nothing from him save a lump of coal, or in the worst cases, a willow switch which would give them a sound spanking.

Legend said that Santa was always watching through his magical snowglobe, and he kept a list of all the children, and checked off whether they behaved or not, and those who did went on the Nice list and those who didn't went on the Naughty one. Those who behaved, mostly, all year, might get a special gift they'd asked for on the night of December 24th. It was rumored that you had to be asleep for Santa to come and visit, though several times enterprising children had tried to stay awake and catch a glimpse of the elusive jolly old elf, who really wasn't an elf at all, but was once a man who had travelled around bringing gifts to needy children across the realms, things that he had made with his hands and a certain magical Gift, toys to bring happiness to children and teach them about the spirit of giving. Because of his selfless behavior and generous heart, the gods rewarded him as he neared the end of his life, granting him a kind of immortality and special powers and helpers to assist him in his mission of bringing light and hope to the children of Fairy Tale Land. But he could only visit those children who believed in him and his message.

Rumple could recall a time when he hadn't even known Santa existed, for his parents thought it all nonsense and had never told him about it, until he met Jeff and Mary Hatter, and Mary had told him the story of Santa Claus, and it had given hope to a lonely abused boy. He had celebrated the holiday with his best friend and grandmother then, and had always woken on December 25th, the height of the solstice holiday, with a stocking filled with candy and fruit and one special toy. That had been the beginning of his belief in true magic, the magic of hope and light, and he had carried that belief within him throughout his life, except when it was overshadowed with the Dark One's curse. But even during those dark years, he had not forgotten to tell Bae and Ivy the story, and so they had received presents from Santa despite being the children of a cursed sorcerer. They had also never forgotten to give a gift to him, and he in turn gave them one, and those small loving gestures eventually shattered the curse to bits.

Now, of course, he celebrated the holiday properly with his children, with all of the traditions that had sprung up throughout the years, and all the happy chaos that ensued during it.

"The boys and I will have to search for a tree soon," he said to Belle. "A very large one, to fill up the space in the hall."

"That will be an adventure. Rafe, Pete, and Kristen usually did that when we lived at Shoe House," Belle recalled. "It was never very big, but it fit nicely in the living room."

Rumple chuckled. "We tend to get pretty large ones, dearie, as the castle can hold the tallest ones, because of my high ceilings. And it'll be fun decorating it with all the children's ornaments this year."

"And popcorn and cranberry strings," Belle said.

"And dancing mage lights," Rumple added.

"It'll be a tree like none of us have ever seen," Belle predicted.

"A combination of our two families," her husband said. "Who will hopefully become one as soon as those adoption papers are official."

"Have you heard from the king's city then?"

"Not yet, dearie, but I'm expecting the document very soon. Maybe even by the holiday."

"Oh, I do hope so, Rum! That would be the best present you could give them."

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed," he laughed. "You never know." He tugged off one of her slippers.

"Ahh, Rum, now my foot's cold," she protested.

"Relax, sweetheart," he crooned. "I'll warm it up with my massage." Then he set to work, proving his slender dexterous hands were good for more than casting spells and spinning.

Belle sighed rapturously. His hands on her foot felt so good, and this was something her former husband, Gaston, had never been around to do for any of her pregnancies. "Gods, Rum! I feel like I've died and gone to paradise."

"Not yet, love," he grinned, his fingers finding all the tense knots and massaging them away with loving tenderness. He worked his way up her foot, even massaging the swollen tissue about her ankle, his touch sending ecstasy shivering through her. Now she was very warm, almost blazingly hot, but she didn't mind at all.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The cold snap broke the next day, and the snow started to melt, making the children have to slog through mushy wet snow to get to school, but they managed it. At school, everyone was talking about the upcoming holiday concert, which was Lyra's big event of the season, and most of her class was devoted to preparing for it.

Finn, her lead soloist, practiced for hours every day until he practically fell asleep at the dinner table, between homework, school, and practice he was so exhausted. Ariel was much the same, and it was lucky the two were magic born, as the stress would have caused an ordinary human to become sick. As it was, Rumple and Belle grew concerned, and told the two musicians that they had to take time off on the weekend to just rest and have fun, and Rumple had to threaten to confiscate his son's flute if he caught him practicing in order to get Finn to relax.

During the third week of November, the artist Jeff and Alice had commissioned arrived to paint the family portrait. His name was Rembrandt, and he had painted portraits of royalty in several kingdoms, but he was not a very rich man, which was how Alice and Jeff had been able to afford his fee, which was not the exorbitant one people expected.

His eyebrows went up into his hair when he discovered the family he was about to paint was so large, but then he shrugged and said he'd just need a bigger canvas. He had them sit around Belle and Rumple, who were on a small sofa, with Clary next to Belle and Phillip beside Rum in the foreground of the picture. Tom he had sitting atop of Puss, who reclined on a cushion inbetween both parents. He positioned the rest of the children, including Snow and Jefferson, about them in a curved formation. He even agreed to have Rowan lying at Belle and Rum's feet.

He said the sittings would comprise about two hours each day for five days, allowing him time to sketch everyone in fully. "I work fast, milord and lady, and a good thing too with so many young ones."

But he'd never reckoned with so many children at once, some of whom could barely stand still for twenty minutes, let alone two hours!

By the end of half-an-hour, Nick, Pete, and Phillip were squirming.

"Papa, how much longer am I gonna have to sit here?" whined Phillip. "My butt's going numb."

Rumple shifted the little boy slightly on his lap. "Not too much longer, lad."

"Mom, my foot fell asleep," Peter complained from his place behind the sofa, next to Rafe and Jack.

"Ignore it," Belle sighed.

"I need to pee," Nick whined.

"Nicholas, didn't I tell you to go before we sat down?" his mother groaned.

"I didn't have to before."

"Master Rembrandt, forgive me . . ."

Rembrandt stopped sketching. "Go on, I'll wait."

That was only the beginning. Every day, the litany of complaints grew.

"Ow! You just stepped on my foot!"

"Did not!"

"Mom, my hair's falling down," Elaina said.

"I'll get it, Elaina," Rafe offered, trying to put up his girlfriend's hair before the artist saw.

"Ow! Rafe, you stuck me with a hair pin!"

"Sorry."

"Quit poking me, Nick!" Nora snapped.

"I had to, my arm's getting stiff," her twin complained.

"I think I'm going to sneeze," Jasmine said, then she did.

"Ugh! Gross! Now I've got snot all over my dress!" Ivy groaned.

"My feet hurt, Papa," June whimpered.

"This shirt itches," grumbled Finn, tugging at his collar. "I hate dress clothes."

Fidget. Squirm. Fidget.

The children moved about so much that poor Rembrandt had to keep changing the positions on the portrait.

Then Puss spotted a bug crawling across the foyer floor, and leaped down with Tom to chase it.

"Yee-hah! It's a grasshopper!" Tom yelled, as Puss started to stalk it.

Rembrandt groaned, and Rum sighed.

"Tom! You can chase it another time, now come back here."

"I can't, Papa. Puss wants to get it now," his son called.

Then Rowan quit snoozing by Belle's foot and joined in the chase, baying loudly.

The artist shook his head and muttered, "Help me, but I've come to a madhouse."

While Tom was bug hunting with Puss and Rowan, Jeff stretched then said, "Rum, I need to take a break. Before I go stir crazy."

His friend turned around and said, "Jeff, you've only been here for forty minutes. What are you, five?"

"I told you I wasn't good standing still, buddy," his friend answered. Then he began to walk up and down the hall.

As if that was signal, the other children shifted and moved as well.

"Someone get me my sewing kit," Aurora ordered. "Rafe stepped on my hem."

"My flower's coming out of my hair," Ariel said.

Kristen returned with the sewing kit, only to be scolded by her sister for getting Baron's hair on her dress. "He was lonely, so I was petting him," she said defensively.

"Clary, keep your shoes on," Belle ordered wearily.

"They pinch, Mama," her youngest whined.

"I want to take a nap," Jack said.

"Would anybody notice if I closed my eyes?" Rennie wondered.

"I'm so bored I could die," Rafe muttered.

"Great! Now my damn foot's all pins and needles," Bae growled, stamping it on the floor.

"Nick, quit making faces at me," Jasmine snapped.

"Then stop looking at me cross-eyed."

"I think my mouth's frozen in this stupid fake smile," Snow said to Ivy, who laughed.

"Tom, you get that bug yet?" Rumple asked, a trifle irritably.

"Almost, Papa," he called, then he yelled back, "Atta girl, Puss! Okay, it's dead."

"Places, everyone!" Rembrandt ordered.

Everyone scrambled back to their spots, grumbling.

"Jeff, get your wandering ass over here!" Rumple called.

"Already? Good gods!"

"Don't make me cast a come hither spell on you," Rumple threatened.

"You do and I won't talk to you for the rest of this month," Jefferson snapped, rejoining the group.

"I'd pay to see that!" Rafe laughed.

Jeff glared at him.

Rembrandt began sketching again, praying he could get through the next fifteen minutes without any interruptions.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On the fourth day, Phillip forgot to put Sweetie in the kitchen and latch the gate and the unicorn wandered in front of them and started nibbling on the canvas, when Rembrandt swatted at her and cried, "Hey! Get away, you damned goat horse!"

Clary jumped off the sofa and cried, "Hey! Don't you call my unicorn a goat! What are you, dumb?"

"Clarissa!" Belle cried. "Don't be rude, young lady."

"But Mama, Sweetie's not a goat, she's a unicorn!"

"Come back and sit down here," her mother told her.

"I'll put Sweetie in the kitchen," Jack said, and stepped out of alignment to do so.

Rembrandt considered running from the castle screaming. All he wanted to do then was hurry up and finish the portrait sketch before something else, like goblins, or a bad hair day, happened.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Finally the sketch was done and the artist assured them that it wouldn't be necessary to sit for him any longer, as he could do the colors from memory, since he'd already written them in as he'd sketched the initial product. He began painting the next day, and the children thanked the gods they were free to leave.

While Rembrandt painted in the foyer, Jeff and Alice went out walking behind the castle. There had been another cold snap and the pond had refrozen. As the two walked along it, Alice said, "I bet we could skate on it now. What do you think, Jeff?"

Jeff tapped the ice close to shore with his boot. "Feels solid enough. I'll ask Rum, he'd know if it was safe enough to skate on."

Jeff dragged Rumple out of the castle and down to the pond, ignoring his grumbling that it was too damn cold to be outside. "Hey, you made me sit for that damn portrait, now you can come test the pond for me."

Rumple touched the ice with his dragon-headed cane. "It's solid enough."

"Good," Jeff said eagerly. "You have a pair of skates I can borrow?"

The sorcerer just looked at him. "Jeff, where the hell's your brains? You think I skate with this leg, huh?"

"Oops! Sorry, I forgot."

"Forgot, my ass!" Rumple grumbled. "Go down to Valley Way and buy some from Master Brinker. But don't come crying to me that you've sprained your ankle trying to show off, the way you did when we were twelve."

"I know how to skate backwards now, Rum!" Jeff said indignantly.

"And Heather the dairy maid's not here to bat her big green eyes at you either," Rum smirked.

"Aww, shut up, Rum!"

Alice eyed him speculatively. "You went out with a dairy maid?"

"Not when I was twelve!" Jefferson objected. "She was just . . . umm . . . really stacked . . . err . . I mean . . ."

"He's all yours, Alice!" Rumple said, covering his mouth with his hand. "Have fun, you two!" He headed back to the castle, his shoulders shaking.

"So, about this Heather the dairy maid . . ." Alice began.

Jeff blushed. "It was nothing. All of us had a crush on her, but she was fourteen and going out with Steven the blacksmith's son so . . . anyway, let's go and get those skates. You know how to skate, right?"

Alice snorted. "Of course! Come on, Lieutenant, let's find Master Brinker, before you stick your foot any further in your mouth."

It took them fifteen minutes to find Master Brinker, who was a shoemaker and he also made skates. Alice bought them both a pair, and they returned to the pond.

She calmly strapped them onto her boots and glided out onto the ice.

Jeff watched her appreciatively before he put on his own and skated over to her.

Alice smiled. "Know how to do figure eights?" she asked, then spun about and did several looping ones across the pond.

"Like this?" he laughed, and skated over hers. Then he did it again, only backwards this time.

"Guess you do know how to skate, Hatter," Alice chuckled, then she spun across the ice, twirling about on her toes.

Jeff clapped. "Good going, Sharpe! You're like the sugar plum fairy."

"I'm what?" Alice gasped. "You comparing me to a fairy, Jefferson? I ought to pop you one in the teeth!"

"What? Fairies are graceful and uh . . ."

"And tiny and they can't wield a sword to save their lives," Alice snorted. She skated about him, going faster and faster, until she did a twirling leap and landed on one foot. "I'd like to see a fairy do that, realms walker!"

"Okay! Okay!" Jefferson held out his hands. "Relax, Alice! You're graceful as a swan." Then he started to skate faster himself, his sharpened skates cutting lines in the ice. "Now watch this."

At the apex of his run, he did a combination of a spin and a backwards somersault, which had been his signature move back when he was sixteen and trying to catch pretty Mayla Parker's eye.

But he'd forgotten that he'd been suppler then than he was now, at thirty-five, and he caught the outer edge of his skate as he landed, throwing off his balance.

He sat down abruptly, then slid right across the ice and into the snow bank on the other side.

"Jeff! You okay?" Alice called.

"Fine!" he replied.

She doubled over laughing. "What do you call that, Hatter?"

Jeff stood up, brushing himself off. "Uh . . . I call it falling with style," he quipped. _Dammit!_ _Bet I'll feel that tomorrow. _He skated back over to her.

"Maybe we'd better stick to just doing figure eights," she suggested. "Before you break something."

"I won't," he hissed stubbornly. Then he turned and skated hard across the pond and circled back, gaining speed as he did so.

He repeated the maneuver again, this time remembering to relax his knees on the landing . . . and stuck it. _Ha! Even after nineteen years, I can still do it!_ He skated backwards a few steps then said, "See? Told you so!"

"Good job, twinkle toes!" Alice clapped, snickering.

"Ah, now come on, Captain! That was low!" he cried, skating over to her and pulling her into his arms. "How about a victory kiss?"

She pulled his head down and kissed him until he thought he was going to pass out. Then she drew back a little and said, "Good enough for you, hero?"

"Hell, yes!" he answered, and kissed her back.

She broke it off eventually, skating back across the pond, her golden hair flying.

"You know, you've got a cute ass, Sharpe!" he drawled.

"You're lucky I like you, Hatter," she said, skating backwards. "Otherwise I'd call you out for that."

"For telling the truth?"

"No, for having an insolent tongue!" she said, then she reached out and pinched his bottom as she skated past him.

He spun around. "Alice, you little imp!" Then he skated after her.

She laughed. "What are you, Hatter, the Big Bad Wolf?" She skated faster.

"Exactly. And when I catch you, you'd better look out."

"Oh, now I'm scared! I'd better run over to Granny's house," she teased, skating even more quickly about the pond.

He pursued, skating as swift as a gull skimming over the water. "If you're not scared, Sharpe, why are you running away?"

"I'm not stupid either, Hatter!" she smirked, glancing back at him, then skating away like lightning.

He frowned, thinking, _Gods and hells, she's fast as a merc chasing a free beer, Jeff!_ He redoubled his efforts to catch her, finally managing to snag her waist with his left hand. "Caught you, pretty hawk! Now you've got to pay a forfeit." He pulled her in tight to him, spinning about in a circle before he halted and kissed her hard.

When she could speak again, she gazed up at him, her blue eyes twinkling. "You're lucky I like you, Lieutenant. Otherwise I could make you really sorry."

"With what, sweetheart?"

"This," she answered, and tapped him very gently with her long knife on his navel.

He burst out laughing. "Alice, gods, I love you!"

"Took you long enough to admit it, soldier," she grinned. Then she kissed him back, before taking his hand and pulling him along with her as she skated across the ice.

"Do you love me, then?" he queried.

"You think I let any man kiss me, Jeff?" she demanded. "The last one who tried that ended up with his family jewels somewhere north of their location. And I was being nice."

Jeff winced. "You want me to stop kissing you then?"

"Now, I didn't say that, did I, Lieutenant?" she queried mischievously.

"Do you love me then?" he asked again.

In answer she spun about, putting her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.

Her kiss warmed him all the way through, and he hardly felt the brisk wind that blew up as he hugged her to him, loving the way she fit against him, as if she had been meant for him alone, since the beginning of time.

Alice leaned her head against his broad shoulder, smiling gently, thinking that here was the first man she had ever trusted to hold her, as if she were a precious glass sculpture, just an ordinary maid, and not the legendary mercenary Captain. And she found that she didn't mind, after all, letting herself take shelter there in his arms.


	50. Holly Jolly Holiday

**50**

**Holly Jolly Holiday**

The next morning, after breakfast, Rumple asked Bae, Rafe, Jeff, and Peter to come with him into the forest and help pick out a tree to decorate for the holiday. Phillip ran up to him and cried, "Can I come too, Papa? I wanna help!"

Rumple knelt and put a hand on Phillip's shoulder, saying quietly, "Phillip, you're not big enough to help carry the tree back, which is what I need your brothers for. But you can help your mom get all decorations out and you get to put the star on the top of the tree, okay?"

Phillip pouted, but then he recalled he had to be good for Santa to come and bring him a present. "Okay, Papa. Bring back a nice big one."

"We will!" Rumple assured him, ruffling his dark hair. Then he pulled on his cloak, hat, scarf, and gloves. "While we're gone, the rest of you help your mom decorate. I want to see this castle looking festive for the holiday."

"Yes, Papa!" the others chorused.

"And everyone's going to behave, right? So they don't go on Santa's Naughty List and get coal and switches in their stockings," Rumple reminded them.

All the younger children nodded, and Finn said, "I'll summon the boxes down from the tower room." He began to play a summoning song on his flute, making the boxes of decorations float all the way down from the tower turret and into the foyer, which was where the tree would go.

While he was summoning boxes, Rumple, Jeff, Bae, Rafe, and Peter got on their cold weather gear and went out the back door and into the forest.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

It took Rum, Jeff, and the boys about two hours of searching before they found the perfect tree to use. It was a twenty-foot blue spruce, with thick needles, sturdy enough to withstand being hung with ornaments for the duration of the solstice holiday. Rumple used his magic to uproot the tree, ensuring that the tree could be replanted once the holiday was over. They marked the trail with swatches of red ribbon, so they could find the way back to where they had taken the tree, and Rum made sure the ribbons were almost permanently affixed to the trees until they brought the tree back after the holiday.

The way they obtained the tree was surprising to Rafe and Peter. "We usually just cut one down," Rafe said.

"That's how most people do it," Rumple nodded. "But I can borrow the tree and then return it to the forest with my magic, so that's what we do."

"It fits with the spirit of the solstice season," Bae said.

"I like it," said Peter, gently patting the tree.

He enveloped the tree in a magical net and then they put ropes about it and pulled it through the forest and then to the castle. Or rather, Jeff and the boys did that while Rumple walked alongside.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Finn, accustomed to the way they obtained a tree, made sure he and Jasmine placed a giant basin of dirt on the floor where the tree would go. "That's so it can be planted there," he said to Phillip, June, and the twins, all of whom were staring at him.

"But isn't the tree dead?" asked Nora, puzzled.

"Yeah, don't you chop it down?" Nick wanted to know.

Finn shook his head. "No. We've never had to kill the solstice tree, because Papa's magic can remove it from the soil and then put it back again when the holiday's over. So it's alive throughout the holiday."

"That's so cool!" Phillip said.

The twins and June agreed.

"It's how we always did the tree," said Jasmine.

"Children, come help me pick out decorations," called Belle from among the boxes Finn had brought down.

They spent part of the time picking out ornaments from the various boxes, most of which were handmade by the children. Finn used his magic to hang bunches of holly, pine boughs, and red ribbon swags all over the hall and sitting room near the mantle. He put a kissing bough in the center of the ceiling foyer, to ensure that anyone who wished could go beneath and steal a kiss from their intended.

Afterwards, Ivy made hot cocoa and Belle, Alice, and the children strung cranberry and popcorn on thread, making strings to drape about the boughs of the tree. Everyone, even Clary, helped do this, though Aurora and Elaina were the best at it.

Ivy twined greenery and more white and crimson ribbons about the banister of the staircase.

Jack and Tom decorated Tom's model home with more bits of ribbon and pine needles and made it look festive.

By the time the boys, Rum, and Jeff arrived back at the castle with the tree, the castle was brimming with holiday cheer and Belle and the children were toasting each other on a job well done with their mugs of cocoa.

Belle's eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the size of the tree they had brought home. "Rum, will it really fit in here?" she asked.

"Sure it will," he replied, using his magic to make the tree plant itself in the basin of dirt.

As the tree straightened to its full twenty-foot height, the younger children gasped at the way it stood there, with its proud fall of branches, slightly glistening with snow. The aroma of pine needles was heavy in the air.

"Oh, it's a lovely tree!" Belle clapped her hands in delight. "And it's actually alive, or so Finn told me."

"Yes, this tree is just being borrowed by me for the holiday," Rumple explained. "Once the holiday's over, back it'll go to the forest. Let's let it sit for awhile and have some lunch. We can decorate it afterwards."

"And will there be presents under it, Papa?" asked Clary, coming over to hug him.

"If you're a good girl, then yes," he replied, hugging her back.

"So you'd better watch out," warned Rafe, smirking.

"Yeah, you'd better not cry," added Rennie.

"Better not pout," Bae reminded.

"Why?" asked Phillip and Clary at practically the same time, laughing.

"I'm telling you why," sang Aurora.

"Because Santa Claus is coming to town!" Ariel and Finn sang together.

"He's making a list," Jack said.

"Checking it twice," Tom announced.

"Gonna find out who's naughty," Elaina chimed in.

"And nice," Ivy smirked.

"We're nice!" chanted the twins.

"And the Millers are naughty," Snow sang, giggling. She had never been in a household that celebrated the holiday like the Golds. Regina had decorated her palace, but the decorations were always fancy white, silver, and gold ones, pretty to look at, but they lacked warmth.

"Yeah, you can say that again!" Jack agreed. "Stupid Bentley pushed little Mary Carey into a snowbank the other day and made her cry. I felt like burying him in an avalanche."

"Guess we know what_ he's_ getting from Santa," Aurora snickered. "Him and his sister both."

"Nothing but a lump of coal!" Clary announced.

"Or a switch," Rafe said. "If anyone deserves a spanking, it's those kids. They make me want to punch their faces in every time I see them."

"Let's not talk about the Millers now," said Rennie. "I'm hungry. Let's eat and then finish decorating the tree."

So that was what they did, eating some sandwiches and small tarts Ivy had made, then going into the foyer to hang the ornaments and popcorn and cranberry strings on the tree.

Rumple made sure to put a strengthening charm on the tree to ensure the branches did not break with the weight of all the ornaments.

Some of the ornaments had been made by the children, and Belle said she could track the years with them, starting with a tin star Rafe had made when he was barely nine, and continuing on up to the miniature bow and quiver he'd made last year.

Some of the ornaments were imperfectly made, like Rennie's cat with its missing front leg, or the frog Nick had cut out of paper that was crooked with legs that were too short for its body.

Ivy provided sticks of peppermint candy to hang on some of the boughs, and they all took turns putting ornaments on the tree, though Finn and Rumple had to put them on the highest branches. Once that was done, Rum conjured small globes of witch light in different colors and set them among the branches to sparkle and glow.

"What about the star, Papa?" Clary reminded him.

"It's right here," Rumple said, gently unwrapping a gold star from a soft cloth. "Phillip, come here." He beckoned to his youngest son.

Phillip came over and Rum picked him up and said, "Do you know why we have a star on the tree?"

"Uh huh," Phillip said. "It's to guide the lost and weary travelers to our door."

"Yes. Now let's put it on," his father said, and then he levitated Phillip and himself up so the boy could put the star on the top of the tree.

Once the tree was finished, everyone stood around and admired it.

"I think we have the best tree in the village!" declared Aurora proudly.

"I'd have to agree," said Belle. "Now someone better sweep the floor, there's pine needles everywhere."

Elaina went to get the broom while her siblings poked fun at each other, mostly for the handmade ornaments hanging on the tree.

But it was all in fun and everyone enjoyed watching the star twinkle on the tree top and smelling the fresh clean scent of the living blue spruce.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In the week that followed, which was the first week of December, Ivy, Rennie, Jasmine, and Belle went through a flurry of baking, making holiday cookies. All the children had their favorites, so they made some of everything they thought the family would enjoy, like sugar cookies, spice drops, chocolate chips, almond crescents, peanut butter hearts, strawberry thumbprints, and apricot bars. But the cookie they made the most of was gingerbread.

That weekend, Belle wanted to have a small tea with Chantel, Granny, Mistress Beatrice, and Annie Pelham. It was also the weekend some of the children wanted to make gingerbread houses. So Ivy was busy rolling out the dough and making the houses for six children—Kristen, Ruby, Aurora, Archie, and Clary and Belinda, who was Annie's little girl.

She had made the walls and roof for each house and had them cooling on a rack and had whipped together a batch of stiff icing to glue it all together. She set out the candies for decorating the houses on a cloth in the dining room and then made sure the tea things were all set up in the sitting room as well.

She had a cookie sheet with a few gingerbread cookies baking in the oven from scraps of dough left over.

As she was putting the bowl of icing on the table, she knocked over a container of gumdrops. It took her a few minutes to pick them up and when she finally came back into the kitchen, she smelled something singing.

"Ah hells! My cookies!"

She pulled out the sheet, which now had three slightly burnt gingerbread cookies on it. As she transferred them to a wire rack to cool, she used some of her magic to counteract the burnt edges. Then she surveyed what she had done and decided to decorate these cookies, using icing to outline them and putting buttons and gumdrop eyes and a face on them.

She placed a hand on one of them, which still seemed wrecked to her, and called on her magic again.

Now Ivy usually had good control over her power and normally used just enough to enhance and no more. But this morning she was rather flustered and accidentally poured more of her magic than usual into the gingerbread man sitting there.

Just as she was doing so, the doorbell rang, and she quickly turned to go answer the door.

When she opened it she found Archie there. "Uh, hi, Ivy. I know I'm a bit early, but I figured Rory and I could visit before we started making the gingerbread house. Is that okay?"

"Sure, come on in. You can have some cookies and milk while you're waiting. Let me go and call her." Ivy said, ushering Archie inside. She paused at the foot of the staircase and called up it, "Hey, Rory! Archie's here!"

Then she turned to go into the kitchen.

"Uh, Ivy?" she heard Archie call. "You'd better come in here. One of your cookies . . . it's . . . uh . . ."

"I know that the two on the racks were a little burnt, but you can still eat them," she began, coming into the kitchen.

"No, look!" Archie pointed to the counter.

A gingerbread man was standing up there, blinking his gumdrop eyes and looking about, like he'd just woken from a long winter's nap.

"Oh! The cookie . . . it's . . . alive!" Ivy gasped. _Did I do that with my magic? That's never happened before._

"I came in here and it . . . he . . . was like that," Archie said, as if afraid he might get blamed for the gingerbread man now walking about on the counter.

Ivy approached the little man, saying softly, "Come here, Gingy. I need to show you to Papa."

But as she went to scoop up the gingerbread boy, the cookie whirled about and yelled, "No! Nobody's gonna eat me!" Then he raced across the counter and jumped off it, quicker than a water bug. "Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me—I'm the gingerbread man!" he sang in a squeaky voice as she darted out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"Oh my goodness! Now you have a runaway cookie!" Archie cried, and started laughing.

Ivy frowned. "Don't just stand there, help me catch him! I don't understand how he got like this, but we can't leave a live gingerbread man running about the castle."

"Okay, don't panic. It's just a cookie. How far can it go?" Archie asked reasonably.

They followed the gingerbread boy out into the hall.

"Where'd he go?" asked Ivy, looking around.

"Where'd who go?" Aurora wanted to know, coming downstairs. "Hello, Archie!"

"Hi, Rory! You're just in time to help us catch a runaway gingerbread cookie!" he said cheerfully.

"A what? How can a cookie run away?"

Ivy groaned. "Um . . . I must have made the cookie animate, I was trying to enhance the flavor and . . . then it came alive . . . or at least Archie found it that way." Just then she spotted Gingy hanging from a branch of the solstice tree. "There he is!"

As they rushed over to the tree, Gingy slid down a candy cane and raced across the floor, singing, "Run, run, run, as fast as you can! Can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!"

He darted quicker than a mouse up the stairs, jumping like a cricket.

"My gods, Ivy! What'd you do, give him super speed?" panted Aurora as they scrambled upstairs.

"I don't know! My magic's never done this before!" she half-wailed.

They chased Gingy into the playroom, where he bounded up onto the table where Clary's tea set was.

"There! In the tea cup!" Archie cried.

He pounced on the tea cup . . . only to find that Gingy had escaped. "Drat!"

"Ha! Ha! I'm over here, you big lug!" shrilled the cookie, waving from behind the teapot.

As Aurora made a snatch at him, the cookie ducked and scurried off the table, giggling.

They ran to and fro after the mischievous cookie, throwing things out of the toy box and knocking over Clary's stuffed animals and dolls.

Belle and Rumple heard the commotion and came to investigate.

"What on earth is going on?" asked Belle as she saw the wreck the room was in.

"We're trying to catch a gingerbread boy, Mom!" yelled Aurora.

"You're doing what?" Rum stared at them. "What is this, a prank?"

Just then Gingy ran right between Belle's slippers, chanting, "Here I go, out the door! Nobody's gonna eat me anymore!"

"Oh, my goodness! There really is a live cookie!" exclaimed Belle. "And he talks!"

"Quick, get him!" yelled Ivy.

But they turned around and Gingy was already hotfooting it down the stairs.

"Ivy, what's going on?" demanded her father. "How did that cookie come alive?"

"I don't know, Papa," she said, looking embarrassed. "You see, I was just trying to enhance the flavor, because the cookies got burnt a little . . ."

"Talk later!" Archie cried. "We've got a gingerbread man to catch!" He ran out into the hall. "Now which way did he go?"

Bae and Rafe came out of their room down the hall. "Hey, Archie! Where are you running off to in such a hurry?" Rafe chuckled. "Got a hot date with Rory?"

"Bae! Rafe! Help us! We're trying to catch a gingerbread man!" Aurora told them as she ran by.

"Rory, are you dreaming?" demanded Bae. "What do you mean, you're trying to catch a gingerbread man?"

"The cookie came alive and now it's running all over the castle!" Belle said.

"Awesome!" yelled Jack, popping his head out the door. "Quick, Tom! Get on Puss and help us round up a stray gingerbread boy come to life!"

"Here, kitty!" Tom called Puss, who was usually napping, and had her come over so he could climb on her back.

Then they followed Jack, who had grabbed his fishing net, out the door.

"All right, this is nuts, but what the hell?" Rafe muttered as he joined the group. "Now I'm hunting runaway cookies." He hurried down the stairs. "What do we do if we catch him, threaten to eat him?"

"First we have to find him!" Archie said. "He disappeared!"

"Just be careful how you search!" Belle cautioned. "You don't want to break anything."

"Mama, what's happening?" Clary lisped, she had just woken up and was rubbing her eyes.

"There's a rogue gingerbread cookie running about, Clary, and we're trying to find him," Belle explained.

"A cookie? But Mama, cookies can't run!"

"This one can, and like greased lighting too," her mother said ruefully. "Ivy magicked it by mistake."

Clary grinned. "Cool! A magic cookie!" She took Belle's hand and they walked carefully down the stairs.

Everyone was hunting high and low for the missing gingerbread boy, when Rum spotted him on top of the mantle, poking his smiling face out from behind the clock. "Come here, you!" he ordered, and cast a come-hither spell at him.

But Gingy ducked behind the clock and the spell bounced off.

Then he scrambled down the fireplace, chanting the same song as before.

"Blast! Missed!" Rum swore, then tried to corner the fleeing cookie, but Gingy was too fast, and skated across Belle's chair in the sitting room and behind a table.

"I've got him, Papa!" shouted Jack, and tried to grab the gingerbread boy with his net as he ran in and out of the table legs.

But Gingy proved too fast even for him, and Jack almost upset the table with the tea set.

"Jack! Watch what you're doing!" Belle cried.

"Sorry, Mom! But he's quicker than a pig at butchering time!" her son yelled, scampering after the cookie.

The gingerbread boy led them a merry dance all about the bottom rooms of the castle, even Rafe and Bae couldn't corner him, and they were all beginning to get annoyed with his triumphant giggles and smile as he escaped them.

"When I get a hold him, I'm going to bite off his head!" Rafe growled. "Then we'll see who's laughing!"

"I can't believe you're letting a cookie get to you," Bae grinned.

"Aww, shut up, Baelfire!" Rafe groused.

"Why are you all running about like chickens with your heads cut off?" asked Elaina, frowning as she came down the stairs.

"Is there a problem?" asked Snow, yawning.

"There's a runaway cookie and we're trying to catch him!" Jack told her.

"Oh, that's hilarious, Jack! Now tell me the real story."

"That _is_ the real story, Elaina!" said Clary seriously. "Ivy made a magic cookie and he's running all over."

"I wanna see it!" Phillip yelled, coming down the stairs at a run and skidding across the floor in his socks.

He almost crashed right into his mother, but Rumple grabbed him. "Easy, lad. You almost hit your mom."

"The floor's slippery, Papa. Where's the gingerbread boy?"

"Playing hard to get," his father sighed.

"Maybe we'll have to set a trap for him," the little boy suggested.

"That's not a bad idea, Phil," said Belle approvingly. "Now what can we use as bait for a gingerbread boy?"

"Gumdrops, Mom!" Phillip cried.

"You want to eat gumdrops for breakfast?" Jasmine frowned as she came downstairs.

"Hey, if Phil gets to eat candy, then I do too!" Nick protested as he came into the foyer, followed by June and Nora.

"Why's everyone standing here?" June asked.

Their eyes widened as Belle told them what was going on.

"I can help build the trap, Phillip!" said Nick eagerly. "We can use toothpicks."

"Or pretzels sticks," suggested Nora. "We've still got some from making chocolate covered pretzels."

"I'm hungry," Jasmine said.

"Come on, sweetie. I can make you some eggs and toast while the rest of them hunt for Gingy," said Belle.

"Gingy?" her husband smirked.

"It's as good a name as any," Belle said defensively. "So quit laughing, Rum."

"I wasn't, dearie," Rum said innocently, but his eyes were sparkling mischievously.

Kristen came into the kitchen followed by Jeff and Alice. "Is Ruby here yet?" she asked Belle.

"No, it's too early," said her mother, scrambling some eggs.

"Hey, is there any food left for us?" queried Jeff, eating a cookie.

"You snooze you lose, Hatter," his friend answered.

Jeff glared at him. "Real nice, Rum."

"He's kidding. I have some eggs and toast," Belle told him. "But we didn't have time to get a real breakfast together since the gingerbread boy came alive."

"Huh? Is this another joke?" Jeff asked.

"No, and the kids are chasing him all over right now," Belle replied.

"Cool! I want to help!" Kristen said, rushing out of the room. "I'll eat later!"

"We're building a trap for him, Uncle Jeff," Phillip declared, carrying a box of toothpicks over to the table.

"Yeah, and we're going to catch him too," Nick claimed, bringing over some string and pretzel sticks.

"Now, how do we start?" Phillip asked.

"Allow me, boys," Alice said. Then she began to help them construct the trap.

Soon they had a neat looking box built out of toothpicks and string, with some gumdrops and pretzel sticks inside for bait. One long pretzel stick was used to prop the box open and a long piece of string was tied to it, so it could be pulled away when Gingy was inside, making the box fall and trapping him.

They put the trap just before the stairs, and Phillip, Nick, and Nora hid behind the tree with the string.

"Clary, you find Tom and Puss and get them to make Gingy come over here," Phillip told her.

"Okay!" She raced from the kitchen, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Hey, Tom! I gotta talk to you now!"

"Think it'll work?" Jeff wondered.

"My kids are pretty smart. I'm sure it will," Rumple said.

"What will you do when you do catch him?"

"Jeff, what do you normally do with a cookie?" Alice rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't want to eat him," Rumple frowned. "Not after he's been animated with magic. He'd be screaming as you bit his leg off."

"Yuck!" Jasmine made a face.

"Of course we're not going to eat him," Belle said. "That's disgusting."

"Can we keep him, Mom?" asked Jasmine, giving her a smile.

"Jasmine, he's not a stray dog," Belle laughed.

"He can live in Tom's model," said her daughter. "Or we can build him a gingerbread house."

Jeff started to laugh. "Rum, this could only happen to you. This'll be the first house I've ever been in that has the food come alive and not allow you to eat it!"

"Well Jeff, in a houseful of magic users, you need to expect the unexpected," said Rumple.

"What's for breakfast?" Finn yawned as he came into the kitchen. "I overslept."

"You needed the sleep," said his father calmly.

"Finn, you have to hear this!" Jasmine said excitedly.

Finn's green eyes grew wide as she told him about the gingerbread boy. Then he said, "If Phil and the twins want to trap him, I can call him over."

"No," Rumple disagreed. "It's the weekend, you're supposed to be resting."

"But Papa, that's only a little magic," his son argued.

Rumple just gave him a sharp Look.

Sighing, Finn mumbled, "Okay, sir," slumping in his chair. He wished his father wasn't so overprotective sometimes! But he didn't want to disobey and risk getting his flute confiscated for a week.

Meanwhile, the other children had chased Gingy all over the castle, until Clary found Tom and Puss and told them about Phillip's plan.

Then the two intrepid hunters began to stalk the gingerbread boy, making him run from the opposite end of the castle towards the staircase.

The other kids help herd him up from the cellar and through the unused rooms, which Gingy tended to avoid because they were bare of furnishings to hide under, and they allowed the cookie to think he was outsmarting them when they came to the foyer where the trap was.

Puss and Tom rushed at him then, and Gingy ran for his life towards the only thing he saw—the toothpick box.

Just as he stopped beside the gumdrops, Phillip grabbed the string and pulled hard.

The pretzel stick snapped and the box fell . . . right on Gingy, trapping him inside.

"Yes! We got him!" cheered Nick.

"Now what?" asked Nora.

"Good job, Puss!" Tom petted the cat, who was purring.

"Now we take this . . . outlaw in to see Rum," Rafe said, and carefully slid his hand under the box before picking it up. "Hey, cookie. If you bite me, you're a dead man."

Everyone snickered at that, except Gingy, who was trembling inside the box.

Rafe carried the box inside the kitchen and presented it to Rum, who cast a small charm and had Rafe put the box inside his magic circle on the table.

Then Rumple removed the box and Gingy blinked and tried to run away, but he fetched up against the circle's magic and was held fast. He stared up at the sorcerer pleadingly. "Please, sir! Don't eat me! I'll . . . I'll give you indigestion! I taste terrible! Like . . . uh . . . stale crumbs." He got down on his knees then and trembled, reaching his hands out.

"Hells, even I couldn't eat that!" Alice groaned.

"Relax, boy!" Rumple soothed. "We aren't going to eat you."

"You're . . . not? But . . . I heard a boy with a red cap say he was going to eat some cookies," Gingy said in relief, climbing to his feet. "That's why I ran."

"No, we promise not to eat you."

"As long as you behave," Rafe growled.

"I will!" Gingy squeaked.

"We'll build you a house," Jasmine said happily. "And you can live in it."

"And now I have a friend that's my size to play with," said Tom, just as Puss jumped on the table, letting the boy crawl off her.

"And you won't let that . . . monster eat me?" asked Gingy, pointing to Puss.

"She's called a cat, and Puss doesn't like cookies," Tom laughed.

"Yeah, but Baron does," Kristen reminded them. "And so does Rowan and Sweetie."

"I'll tell them not to hurt Gingy," said Jasmine.

"Thank you!" Gingy said, looking relieved. "Then I can stay here?"

"Well, if we tossed you out into the snow, we'd be cookie murderers," Rum chuckled. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

"No!" all the children said.

Ivy came and peered down at her magical cookie mistake. "I just wish I knew how you came to life," she said.

"Sometimes the magic fulfills a desire you never knew you had, dearie," said her father. "Especially around the holiday season. It's one of the most magical times of the year. So be careful what you wish for." Then he banished the circle, setting Gingy free.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

When Granny, Ruby, and the others arrived, they all were pleasantly surprised to meet Gingy, and when the adults had their tea in the sitting room, the children worked on their gingerbread houses.

Jasmine and Tom designed a special one for Gingy, complete with a frosting icicle roof and a pretzel bed with a tiny blanket. Jasmine even made a table and chairs for him out of toothpicks.

"Wow! This is the best house I've ever been in!" Gingy said. "Actually, it's the only house I've ever been in. Except this castle."

"We're glad you like it," said Tom. "Happy Winter Solstice! And welcome to the Dark Castle!"

**A/N: Hope you all liked! Thanks so much for sticking with this story, it's already on chapter fifty!**


	51. Of Skating, Sleighing, and Slander

**51**

**Of Skating, Sleighing, and Slander**

Now with the addition of Gingy to the Gold household, things were starting to get very festive. They decorated the outside of the castle with glittering mage globes of colored light, placed around the trees in the front yard and the bushes along the path leading up to the courtyard. On the doors themselves were huge wreaths with pretty ribbons and small tinkling bells in them. On the fence posts were twined more greenery and at every other post in the pasture was a huge red velvet bow.

In Belle's rose arbor, most of the varieties had gone to sleep for the winter and been pruned down, but there were some hardy winter varieties that still bloomed, like a blue Icicle rose and the hardy Lace Winter rose and a peach colored Blush of Frost. Rumple cast warming charms on the ground to ensure the bushes wouldn't freeze and they could have roses to decorate the table with even in the dead of winter.

The roses blooming brightened up Belle, who had started to get huge, and was now in her sixth month. Most of her time she spent overseeing the children's various holiday projects and helping Ivy and Rennie with the holiday menu for the night of the 22nd, 23rd, and the 24th. She waddled now, and had difficulty climbing the stairs, so Bae made her a chair, which Rumple magicked to levitate her up and down them, and so avoid the risk of her tripping and falling.

The younger children sometimes played with it, making it race up and down, until Rumple caught them doing it one day and scolded them, saying it wasn't a toy and they had perfectly good legs to walk with. That was the end of the chair racing.

It was almost the end of the first term at school, so their teachers were piling on the projects and homework, and the report cards were due out just before the actual solstice celebration.

"Which just sucks," muttered Rafe. "Because if we don't do well, then we'll be in trouble over the holiday break." Not that he had much to worry about, since though Vega was tough, she was also fair, and Rafe wasn't a bad student, though he had to study a lot.

The holiday break was from December 21st all the way through the New Year feast on the 1st of January. The kids could hardly wait for it, and were doing their best to behave as much as possible.

One day on the second week in December, Phillip came home from school very excited. He rushed upstairs to find his mother, who was resting, as she usually did during the afternoon, between 3 and 4 PM. He burst into the bedroom like a miniature whirlwind, his eyes shining, still wearing his cloak and scarf, his cheeks red from the cold.

"Mom! Mom! Guess what?"

Belle was reclining on her bed, with her feet up on two pillows to reduce some of the swelling. She was wearing a comfy purple quilted bed gown and fuzzy lavender socks, both articles of clothing had been woven by her loving husband.

She was sipping some green juice that Granny had given her the recipe for, and reading a book. The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, banishing winter's chill from the room.

By the fire sat Rumple, also dressed comfortably in winter wool breeches, tunic, and shirt of soft maroon and blue. He was knitting another pair of socks, this time in shades of gold and blue yarn, with Puss curled beside his slippered foot. A mug of cinnamon spice tea sat beside him on a small end table.

Belle turned to see her youngest son, her blue eyes widening. "Phillip, what's got you so excited you didn't even take off your cloak and scarf?"

"I forgot, 'cause I wanted to come right up and tell you," her son grinned. He loosened his scarf as he talked.

"It must be something important for you to come here first and not eat your after school snack," said his father, raising an eyebrow. "Did something happen at school?"

"Yeah, but nothing bad, Papa," Phillip said. "Today Miss Poppins had a spelling bee in my class. We had to spell all the words we'd learned the whole time she'd been teaching us. It was a surprise, no one knew it was coming. And guess what?"

"What?" asked Belle.

"I won! I spelled all the words we learned right. And then I spelled the bonus word too!" Phillip announced. He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and showed it to Belle and Rumple. "See? Here's my . . . umm . . . certificate of . . . uh . . . achievement, Miss Poppins called it. It has my name on it and everything. See, Mom? It says _Phillip Gold_."

Belle took the certificate and read it aloud. "Phillip Gold has achieved the highest honors in spelling from Mary Poppins, 1st grade teacher, on this day of December 10th, 1777 S.Y. Oh, Phillip, that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you!" She held out her arms and Phillip climbed on the bed so she could hug him.

Then he scrambled down and showed the certificate to Rum, and received another hug. "That's my boy! Didn't I tell you that with Miss Poppins as your teacher, you'd go far? You did a fantastic job! Now tell me, what word did you spell for the bonus?"

"I spelled the longest word in the _world_, Papa!" Phillip declared. "I spelled this. S-U-P-E-R-C-A-L-I-F-R-A-G-I-L-I-S-T-I-C-E-X-P-I-A- L-I-D-O-C-I-O-U-S. It's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

"Good gods! I don't know if I could say it, let alone spell it!" Belle exclaimed.

"Same here. Phillip, that's amazing! What does that word mean?" asked Rumple proudly.

"Uh . . . Miss Poppins said it means . . . uh . . ." Phillip frowned, thinking hard. " . . . something so incredible that you don't have any other word to describe it. She even taught us a little song about it." He began to sing softly, "It's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious, if you say it loud enough you'll always sound precocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

Rumple and Belle clapped enthusiastically after Phillip had finished.

"I'm going to hang this certificate in my study on the wall so everyone can see it," Rum said.

"Wow! Just like Ivy's, Tom's, Finn's, Jasmine's, Elaina's, and Bae's," Phillip cried. "I'm gonna ask Tom, Snow, and Ivy to try and spell my bonus word. I bet they can't even do it."

"You might be right at that," his papa nodded.

"Missy Arnold came in second, and Pinocchio got third," Phillip said happily.

"Tonight, as a reward, you can pick dinner," said his mother.

"And have a half-hour later bedtime also," added Rum. "Since tomorrow is Saturday."

"Yes! I want pancakes, bacon, and crispy potatoes!" Phillip cried.

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "You want to eat breakfast for dinner?"

"Uh huh."

"Why not?" Belle laughed. "It'll be something different. We can also have some broiled tomatoes, sausage, and eggs too."

"Sounds good to me, lad," Rumple chuckled, giving his son another squeeze. "Now why don't you go and take off your wet cloak and scarf and let them dry by the fire downstairs? Do you have any homework?"

"I just have to read a page aloud in a book I like," Phillip said.

"Good. You pick out a book and you can read a page to us," said Belle.

"Okay, Mom! See ya!" then he rushed out of the room and down the stairs.

Belle beamed proudly at her husband. "Oh, Rum, I'm so proud of him! He's doing wonderfully since Mary has taken over teaching his class."

"He really has. And Mary is a brilliant teacher, able to bring out the best in her students because she loves teaching. I always said she ought to teach, that she was wasted as a nanny," Rumple said softly. "I hope our others do as well in school."

"Well, we'll see come the end of the term," Belle said, then she picked up her book again.

Rumple resumed knitting, and then the only sound in the room was the soft clickety-clack of his knitting needles and the turning of pages.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Phillip stumped Ivy and Snow with his bonus word, and almost Tom as well, though the small boy managed to spell it correctly after much pondering. They all enjoyed Phillip's victory supper, especially Rennie and Ivy, who didn't have half as much to wash up after supper.

Finally, the term was over and all the children presented their parents with their report cards, some with more trepidation than others. To Rumple and Belle's delight, they all had done well, with Ivy, Snow, and Tom getting straight A's, and Finn, Aurora, Phillip, and June having almost straight A's with one B. The others had mostly B's and some A's, and Jack even managed to pull his tottering math grade up to a B with Snow and Bae's help. Nick actually managed a C+ in composition and spelling this term, thanks to Snow's tutoring, which was like a solstice miracle right there.

To reward their hardworking scholars, Belle and Rumple declared they could have an ice skating party that weekend, which was the weekend before the start of the holiday. Invitations were by word of mouth only, so Snow rushed over to Charming's house to invite him, while Kristen ran down to Ruby's, Jack rode over to Ray's, and Phillip accompanied Aurora into Valley Way to ask Pinocchio and Archie.

While Phillip went over to Geppetto's house, Aurora went down the main street to the Golden Goose, where Archie worked after school sometimes, helping Mike sweep up the place and wash the tables. She found Archie attacking a table with a soapy rag, scrubbing up something sticky (probably ale) that had been spilled on a table.

"Hey, Archie!" she called softly.

The auburn-haired boy looked up from his labors, and grinned when he saw who had called him. "Hello, Rory! Are you glad school's out?"

"Yes, because now we can have fun over the holiday," she answered, smiling back at him. "How did you do on your report card?"

"Uh, the usual," Archie said modestly.

"Which is?"

"All A's."

"I almost had all A's too," Aurora said. "I got a B in art, because I can't draw to save my life."

"Now if they had a class in spinning, you'd have aced it," Archie said, tossing the rag into the soapy bucket of water by his feet.

"I wish!" Rory laughed.

"So, what brings you down here?" he asked, leaning on the table.

"Well, Mom and Papa said since all of us did well on our report cards that we could have a skating party as a reward and invite all our friends to it," Aurora said. "So I came down here to tell you that you're invited and it's this Saturday night at seven."

Archie looked delighted. "Cool! I haven't been to a skating party since I was like, ten. Thanks for inviting me, Rory!"

Just then Mike came over and told Archie to take a break and get something to eat.

"Are you hungry, Rory?" he asked the blond girl.

"I could eat something," she said. "Like one of Mistress Pelham's stuffed pastries."

"Then let's get one," Archie said.

They walked out of the tavern and down the street towards Annie Pelham's bakery. She mostly sold sweets and cakes, but recently she had started selling some savory things, like the stuffed pastries Aurora had mentioned. There were three different kinds—a broccoli with four cheeses, a bacon and cheddar, and a chicken with peppers and onions in a red sauce.

Archie reached out and took Aurora's hand as they walked, a smile on his normally serious face.

They entered the bakery and waited on line together, discussing which pastry they were going to order when they heard a snide voice say behind them, "Well, if it isn't the Sleeping Spinner and Artless Archie!"

Aurora turned to see snooty Arachne Miller standing behind her, wearing a blue velvet cape and snowshoe hare furred muff and cap. "If you think Archie's like that, Arachne, then why would you want to go out with him?"

"None of your business, Avonlea!" snapped Arachne, brushing her dark curls from her eyes. "I'm surprised you're up and about at this time of day. Don't you need a nap?"

Three of her stuck-up girlfriends, who had come in with her, started laughing.

"She doesn't need a nap half as much as you need to learn manners!" Archie defended.

"Oh, Archie!" Arachne moved closer to him and batted her eyes. "What do you see in her anyhow? She falls asleep at the drop of a hat and she had her father witch her in order to win the spinning contest too. She's nothing special, just a fraud!"

"That's where you're wrong, Arachne," Archie said angrily. "Rory didn't cheat at all, she won that contest all on her own, without any of Master Gold's help. And she's interesting and fun to be with, unlike some people."

"Yeah, so interesting she puts you to sleep, eh, Hopper?" jeered one of Arachne's friends.

"Ha ha, very funny, Deala," snorted Archie. "It was so funny I forgot to laugh."

Aurora glared at all of them. "All of you are nothing but a pack of jealous harpies."

Gasps followed that statement, and Arachne snarled, "Better watch it, Avonlea, or else one night you might find yourself buried in a snowbank."

"You hurt Aurora and Master Gold will change you into something even worse than a spider, that's for damn sure!" Archie snapped.

"I'm not afraid of that hedge witch's magic!" Arachne growled.

"My papa's no hedge witch!" Aurora flared. "And you're the biggest liar in the village, Arachne! And everyone knows it."

"Am not! If your evil father tries to magic me again, I'll have the witch hunters down on his head so fast he'll still be facing backwards," the girl threatened.

"My papa is not evil, you yellow-bellied hag. And everyone knows you deserved to be turned into a spider because you were acting like a spoiled brat and breaking people's wheels with your little temper tantrum and accusing me of cheating. Besides, there's no law here that says you can't defend yourself, which was all he was doing, you spoiled rotten bitch! You were the one who raised a hand to him."

"How dare you call me that, you stupid cow!" Arachne spat. "Just you wait, Fall Asleep Avonlea! This isn't over between us."

"Bring it on, Miller!" Aurora challenged.

Arachne glared at her, then gave her a sickly smile. "I will. Wait and see," then she turned and strode from the shop, her girlfriends trailing behind her.

Aurora rolled her eyes. "Keep flapping your big mouth, Arachne, and maybe someday something resembling sense will come out of it."

"But we'll be waiting a long time for that," Archie snickered. "I'm going to get a chicken and pepper pastry. How about you?"

"I think I'll get a bacon and cheddar," said Aurora. "How about we split them between us?"

"Sure." Archie beamed, delighted with how this lunch date was turning out.

Since Mistress Pelham was a friend of the Golds, she gave Aurora and Archie a large discount, and even threw in some free donuts as well.

Soon Archie and Aurora were laughing at their table, and enjoying their meal immensely. They thought nothing further about Arachne Miller, figuring she was all hot air.

Instead they chattered about the fun they were going to have skating, and the new book Archie was reading from the Enchanted College until Aurora realized she had better go and pick up Phillip and go home. Then Archie escorted her to Geppetto's cottage, giving her a farewell kiss just before turning and heading back to work.

He savored the taste of her lips, gently spiced with a chocolate donut and cocoa all the way back to the tavern.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The Gold children prepared for the skating party by making small sacks and filling them with dirt and inserting a wooden pole in them. Atop the pole was a small lantern, lit by magic, and they placed several of these along the path to the pond, which was frozen almost all the way to the bottom, and around most of the pond's edge, saving a small space for them to enter and exit.

The lights lit up the pond so the skaters could see what they were doing, and provided a sense of mystery and beauty to the night. Belle and Alice made hot cocoa and baked spice drops and almond crescents, and the children carried a small table out to put the refreshments on. Rumple came and checked the ice, making sure there were no weak spots for anyone to fall through.

Promptly at seven, the guests began to arrive. First came Charming, carrying his skates over his shoulder, wearing a sheepskin coat and a blue merino scarf, singing the old carol, Winter Wonderland. He grabbed Snow by one gloved hand and twirled around with her, making her laugh, before helping her with her skates.

Archie was next, shyly giving Rory a small bouquet of solstice lilies and poinsettias, then slipping on his own skates next to Aurora.

Ruby came racing up the path, singing her favorite carol, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." She threw snowballs at Kristen and the twins, having a brief snowball fight before putting on her skates.

Ray and Pinocchio arrived at almost the same time, then separated to greet their respective friends.

Soon everyone was gliding upon the frozen surface of the pond, doing figure eights and twirls and a few spinning leaps, in the case of Jack and Ray. Elaina was like a graceful swan, able to skate in tandem with Rafe, but she could also do several twists and leaps, like a ballet dancer.

Bae skated side-by-side with Rennie for a bit, smiling happily at his betrothed, then went to help Clary. Together, Bae and Rennie taught her how to skate, laughing softly, and each holding her hand.

Finn and Ariel played with each other, racing across half the pond, then turning and writing their names in the ice with their skates.

Kristen showed Ruby how to do a sit and spin maneuver, laughing when Ruby fell over.

About twenty minutes into the party, Jeff and Alice strolled down, laughing like two mischievous children, and joined them.

"Watch this, Uncle Jeff!" Phillip called, and then he skated backward and spun around.

"Very good!" Jeff clapped. Then he looked over at Alice and said, "Let's show these kids how to skate, eh?"

"Sure thing, loverboy," she crooned.

Alice twirled about like a top, coming out of her spin to sail right into Jefferson's arms. Then they skated about together, and at one point Jeff lifted her above his head and skated about, then set her down and did his combination double loop and backwards somersault, to the children's amazement.

"I can't believe he did that!" said Rafe.

"Don't you try it, Bae!" Rennie warned. "I don't want you breaking a leg."

"I don't think I could do that anyway," her boyfriend answered. Then he put his arm about her waist and they skated off side by side.

Snow and Charming clapped after that maneuver, and Charming said, "Well, I'll be! Guess old Jeff still has it in him." Then he looked over at Snow. "Race you to the other side?"

They soared across the pond, and Snow almost beat Charming to the other side.

"Now you have to pay a forfeit!" he teased.

"Like what?" she demanded.

"A kiss," he smirked, then he took her in his arms and kissed her.

"Yeah, James! Kiss that pretty girl!" Rafe hooted.

Elaina rolled her eyes. "What about me?"

"Oh, are you feeling left out?" he queried. Then he spun around and kissed her so long she almost saw stars. "Better?"

"You're an imp, Rafe. But I love you anyway," she said, giggling. "Now let's play a game of ice ball."

Then they divided into two teams, and set up opposite goals, which were two large feed buckets, with each team's keeper, and played a rousing game, trying to get a small black ball past the other team and into the goal.

There was good-natured checking and shouting, and Pete checked Ray so hard he was knocked down, but he got right up and shoved Pete back. They soon discovered that Alice could check like a man, and did, especially when she was going for the ball to score.

But all of them watched out for the small ones, like June, Phillip, Pinocchio, and Clary. No one shoved them anywhere, and it was June who scored a goal for Jeff's team, slipping past the larger boys and shooting the ball right past the bucket.

"Yes! Go, Junie! You're our secret weapon!" Jeff cheered. "Beat that, Alice!"

"Just watch me, Hatter!" she called, then beckoned her team into a huddle and discussed some strategy.

They faced off again, and this time Bae had the ball, and passed it to Rennie, who skated around Peter and passed it back to Aurora, who passed it to Archie, who ducked Rafe and got it to Alice, who scored.

"Whoo-hoo! Now there's an example of strategy, Jeff!" she crowed.

Finally, the teams were tied, and they decided to break to drink and eat the snacks on the table, flushed and laughing.

As she sipped her cocoa and munched on a cookie, Ivy said to Tom, "I wonder what Mom and Papa are doing right now, since neither of them can skate?"

"Probably reading to each other in front of the fire," her brother replied. "Or playing a board game."

"Or he's brushing her hair," Ivy mused, having seen that more than once when the two were together in the sitting room.

"Mom might deliver early," he remarked, nibbling a donut crumb.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because she's having twins and they usually do," Tom answered. "It happens with twin lambs and kids, so why not people?"

"How early, do you think?"

"A couple of weeks, maybe," Tom shrugged.

"Maybe we ought to tell Granny."

"I'm sure she knows, Ivy. After all, she's a midwife," her small brother said. Then he held out his nutshell mug for her to pour him another drop of cocoa.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Meanwhile, down at the castle, Rumple decided to use the time the rest of the family was skating to do something fun with Belle. He hitched up Rogue to the old sleigh they had in the barn, shining it up with magic and using a very light wax on the runners to make sure they could glide over the snow easily.

He charmed the sleigh with warming charms and brought plenty of thick furs and woolen blankets and pillows, so neither of them froze on the sleigh ride. He hung bells on Rogue's harness and put steaming cups of peppermint tea in special holders so they could drink it, as well as roasted chestnuts and a bag of marshmallows with sticks.

Then he headed back into the castle and blindfolded his mystified wife and led her out the door.

"Rum, where are you taking me?" Belle chuckled.

"You'll see? Just wait." Then he halted beside the sleigh and tugged off the blindfold.

Belle blinked, then gasped when she saw what was before her. "Oh, Rum! A sleigh ride! What fun! I've never been on one!"

"What, never?"

"No. We never got this much snow down in Avonlea."

"Then you're going to love it, dearie," he grinned, and assisted her gently into the sleigh, covering her up with half the blankets. "Comfy, Belle?"

"Yes," she smiled, tugging her fur hat down past her ears.

He jumped up on the other side of her, pulling a lap robe over him before picking up the reins and saying, "Rogue, giddyap, girl!"

The mare shook her fine-boned head and pranced out of the yard and down the lane to the village.

Belle looked around at the trees and bushes glistening with snow and said, "Oh! It's a beautiful night! Look at the moon hanging and the stars. I feel like singing."

"Go ahead, dearie," Rum encouraged.

So Belle started to sing the ever popular "Jingle Bells", her voice soaring high and clear into the night.

Soon Rumple joined her, and they sang several songs to accompaniment of Rogue's hooves and the tinkling of the harness bells.

They toasted each other with their mugs of tea as they reached the village proper, Rogue snorting a little when Rum clucked to her to go a bit faster.

As they drove through the village, which was all decorated and lit up, people waved to them as they passed.

"Happy Solstice, Master Gold, Lady Belle!" they cried.

A bunch of children followed the sleigh, exclaiming how neat it was, and the couple gave them all rides for a short distance, as well as marshmallows and chestnuts.

"Thanks, Master Gold!" the kids sang, waving after they'd been dropped off a few feet later.

The only ones who didn't greet them cheerily were Arachne and her brothers, who threw snowballs at the back of the sleigh.

One hit Belle in the head, almost knocking her cap off.

At that, Rum turned around angrily, and animated a snowman sitting beside a house.

The snowman promptly picked up snow and started throwing snowballs back at the Millers, making Arachne shriek because snow fell down her dress and nailing Bertrem in the eye.

"That ought to keep those brats busy," Rumple said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. The nerve of those kids!"

"They need a good lesson in manners," her husband said angrily. "Rufus spoils them rotten, that's why they think they can get away with anything."

"I wouldn't have minded if that snowball was an accident, but it was on purpose," Belle said, brushing snow from her hat.

"Wicked brats! They'd not be able to sit down for a day if I had the raising of them," Rumple growled.

"You and me both, Rum!" Belle agreed. Then she opened the sack of roasted chestnuts and began to eat some.

At the end of the village, Rumple turned Rogue around and had her pull them back to the castle on the opposite side of the village, behind the houses. Since Rogue was trustworthy, he laid the reins on the seat beside him and took out the bag of marshmallows and sticks.

He put a marshmallow on a stick and lit it on fire with his magic, then handed it to Belle. "Here, love! A toasted marshmallow."

"Mmm! Help me eat it, Rum, it's too much for me," she invited.

Together they bit into opposite sides of the gooey treat, and just as they swallowed, their lips met.

Soon they were busy kissing and then licking the sticky mess off each other, laughing like children.

"Oh, we must look a sight, as Aunt Miranda would say!" Belle chucked.

"Probably worse!" Rumple laughed, using a corner of a handkerchief to wipe off some marshmallow stuck on Belle's cheek. "But who cares? It's a beautiful night, let's enjoy it, dearie."

He roasted another marshmallow and they shared it again, getting all sticky, and then kissing each other breathless while Rogue trotted along serenely, unaffected by the crazy antics of her passengers.

Then they drank more tea and ate chestnuts while singing carols, where each of them would sing a line and the other would follow.

Belle put her hand over her middle, giggling when she felt the babies stirring beneath it. "Rum, I think they like this sleigh ride too. Feel how they're jumping!"

Rum put his hand on her belly and grinned. "Of course they do, my lovely rose! They're smart like their mama."

He clucked to Rogue, and the mare trotted faster over the snow, drawing the sleigh effortlessly down the path and through the trees. He held the reins loosely in his left hand while hugging Belle to him with the other, stealing kisses inbetween the bites of chestnuts she fed him.

The snowy landscape was beautiful, all clean and crisp, and it made the trees glisten and sparkle like something out of a tale, but Rumple found his wife to be more beautiful than anything, and the light in her eyes warmed him better than any charm he'd cast.

As they meandered through the woods towards the castle, down in Valley Way, Arachne stomped across the street to the Goose, where she had heard a certain person was staying, having arrived in the village two days before. Most of the villagers gave him a wide berth, not liking strangers, and him even less than the usual sort. But Arachne needed to speak with him, for he was the only one that could help her get revenge upon that slimy sorcerer and his brood of freaks.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Two hours later, Rumple pulled up Rogue in the yard, then said, "How was that, my lady wife?"

"It was incredible!" Belle laughed, her cheeks flushed from the wind and her lips as well from his kisses. "We'll have to do it again soon. Before I get too big to fit in here."

Rumple helped her get down from the sleigh, walking her over to the small bench that sat in the kitchen courtyard. "Can you sit here for a minute, Belle, while I unhitch Rogue and put her in the barn? Or is it too cold for you?"

"No, Rum, I'm fine. Go ahead," she waved him off and sat down with a blanket around her.

He quickly unhitched the mare and led her inside the warm barn, giving her a quick rub down and some hay before hanging up the harness on the wall and returning to take the other things out of the sleigh before escorting Belle inside the castle.

As he emerged from the barn, limping slightly on his bad leg because the chill had gotten to it, he heard Belle scream, "Rumple! Look out!"

But it was too late.

A glittering magical net encased him and before he could banish it, someone tugged hard and knocked him off his feet.

Half-stunned for a moment, he looked up to see four strangers standing there, rough-looking men with stubble on their faces dressed in the silver and red tunics and bearing the closed fist insignia of King George's most hated law enforcement—the witch hunters. "What in the gods' name do you think you're doing?"

"We're bringing you in for questioning, sorcerer!" snarled the leader, who also was holding the net in one beefy paw.

"Let my husband go, you cretin!" Belle shouted, struggling to get up from the bench. "You can't just attack him on his own property."

"We've received a complaint that he's used dark magic on an innocent girl," the leader replied. "Now quit that yelling, missus, before we gag you."

Belle's eyes flashed. "You're welcome to try, you ignorant lout! You were misinformed, you stupid bully! And your kind has no jurisdiction here, we're Attica, not King George's kingdom."

"Our business is to bring dark mages to justice, and it doesn't matter where we are, lady," said one of the others, a younger fellow with a scraggly beard and lank blond hair.

"I'm no dark mage, idiot!" Rumple snarled, trying to sit up, but the net pinned him down and when he tried to use magic on it, it only tightened on him, like a twitch on a horse. "Who issued this complaint against me, witch hunter? I have a right to know my accuser."

"I didn't catch her name, but she claimed you witched her entire family. Cute girl, brunette," answered the witch hunter. "Now you're coming with me, and we'll see if the Questioner can't get the truth out of you."

"No! Get away from him!" Belle shrieked, and she picked up an ice coated rock and threw it at the leader's head.

It hit the witch hunter on the side of the head, making him stagger backwards, clutching it and groaning. "Oww! What the hell!"

"She did it, sir," parroted one of his men, staring at Belle. "Man, she sure can get all het up, like a firecracker!" Then he ducked as Belle lobbed another rock at his head.

One of the other men started towards her, intending to do something, when there came a loud snarl from behind him. He froze as a huge black and orange tiger sprang in front of Belle, roaring loudly.

"Ahh! A tiger! Oh gods, it's gonna eat me!" the witch hunter screamed, and ran backwards faster than he ever had in his life.

The other witch hunters backed away, only to hear a second terrible growl and see a gigantic black bear emerge from beside the barn, standing on its hind legs and snarling at the intruders.

"A bear! Gaia save me!" babbled the blond hunter, and took off, sprinting out of the yard.

Baron walked forward, swinging his platter-like paws, growling viciously.

Suddenly there came a sharp neigh and a crash of splintered wood and then Steady galloped from the barn, shrilling a war cry. The destrier raced right at the third witch hunter, almost trampling him.

"Help! Help! The damn demon horse is attacking me!" yelped the hunter, getting to his feet and running hell for leather back down the trail.

The leader quickly released the net and started to back off, trying to determine where to run to, when a streak of white galloped up from the rose arbor and charged him.

"Ahh! My ass!" shrieked the witch hunter, as Sweetheart rammed him with her horn right in the backside.

Then he screamed again as the unicorn bit him for good measure.

He started running about, trying to get away from the "man-eating" unicorn, yelping, "Okay! I'll leave! Just get this crazy thing away from me!"

"Take the net off my husband and I'll call her off," Belle said from behind Rajah.

The witch hunter panted and then spoke a word and the net retracted. "Okay, now -oww—call off this man-eating beast!" he howled as Sweetie bit his backside again.

Rumple gained his feet, wincing as his leg started throbbing, and then he whistled at Sweetie, who trotted over to him, nuzzling him. He cupped his hand and a fireball glowed within his palm. "I know who sent you here, witch hunter, and she lied to you, slandering me out of jealousy and anger. Her claim is unfounded, and I'll be taking it up with the magistrate in the morning. Now get off my property while you still can walk. Or do you need some encouragement from these three?" He gestured to Rajah, Baron, and Steady.

"N-No! I'm going! Don't let them eat me!" whimpered the witch hunter, and he turned and ran like Rumple had set his rump on fire.

"Rum, are you okay?" Belle called worriedly.

"Yes, dearie. Just a little sore. Come, Steady, there's a good lad," he whistled to the stallion, who tossed his head then came at his call.

Leaning half on the horse's shoulder, Rumple led him into the barn and back to his stall, which he mended with a charm and shut him inside. He fed the destrier an apple and said, "Thanks, big fellow."

He limped out of the barn and back to where Belle was sitting. Rajah was purring now, his great head in her lap. "Good Rajah! Thank you for scaring away those disgusting men."

"Yes, good job, Rajah," Rumple praised, gently rubbing the tiger behind the ears. He also petted Baron, who came up and shoved his nose into his hand. "I'll bet those four are still running, all the way back to George's kingdom, the damn bastards! Thinking they could arrest me in my own castle!"

"I can't believe they'd dare to come up here like that!" Belle said, furious. "And on the say so of that impudent snip Arachne Miller, no less! Are you hurt, Rum?"

"No, sweetheart. My leg's a little stiff, that's all," he reassured her. "Come, let's get inside before we freeze like statues." He helped her rise, and leaning on both Baron and Rajah, they made their way back inside the castle, with Sweetie tagging along behind.

"Thank goodness the animals were here to drive off those . . . those slimy witch hunters!" Belle said once they were sitting on the settle once more. Sweetie had her head in Belle's lap and was being petted profusely by her. "But how did they get out of the castle? We shut the door before we left."

"Sweetie must have opened it. Jack says she can open doors like a clever goat or a pony," Rumple said. "And it's a good thing too!" He petted the little unicorn and fed her some sugar lumps and an apple slice. "First thing tomorrow, I'm going down to the village and having a talk with Rufus Miller about what his daughter and his sons, possibly as well, tried to do. He owes me for their little prank."

"A prank! Rum, they could have killed you!" Belle objected. "Those witch hunters would have tortured you if they'd gotten hold of you."

"I know. I'll make sure Rufus knows that," the sorcerer said tightly. "I'll also talk to the magistrate and let him know that if need be I'll bring a case against them for slandering me."

"Humph! If I were you, I'd curse their asses off!" Belle said hotly.

"It's tempting, dearie," Rumple said, then he sighed. "But if I did that, I'd be no better than the dark sorcerer they claimed I was. So, I'll go a different route. And if Rufus doesn't take his children in hand, maybe my lawsuit will convince them to leave me alone."

"If not, I'll borrow Rennie's crook and beat their behinds about the village green a few times," Belle growled. Then she hugged her husband tightly.

"Now that'd be a sight to see, dearie!" he laughed. "Worth every piece of gold I own." He hugged her back, resting a hand on her middle, and leaning his head on her shoulder.

The warmth of the fire made them sleepy and soon they had drifted off, curled about each other, with Sweetie beside them and Baron and Rajah lying on the rug before the fire, gnawing on the meaty bones given to them by Rumple, as a reward for a job well done.

**A/N: Hope you all liked this one! What will happen now with the Millers? And maybe some of you found it odd that Rumple knits, well, it was a common thing for both men and women to knit a long time ago, and I figured he'd do so since he can also make clothes.**


	52. Twas the Night

**52**

**'Twas the Night**

When the children returned from the skating party and found out what had gone on in their absence, they were furious. That anyone had dared to attack their father was cause for immediate concern, but that it had been as a result of Arachne's lies was worse than anything.

"I'm going to get Steady and ride over there and pin that lying wretch's hair to a pole!" Jack growled, running upstairs and getting his practice spear.

"I'll help!" Ray said stoutly. "I'll beat up Bentley while you pin her down, Jack."

Rafe got all cold and hard then went and took down his bow from the wall.

Elaina was ready to spit fire. "That lying little banshee! Somebody ought to slap her tongue right out of her head!"

"I'm getting my sword," Bae growled, then did so.

"And my crook," Rennie scowled, grabbing it from its place by the back door. "A few good whacks ought to teach her how to tell the truth."

"I have a wooden spoon," Ivy added. "How dare she tell lies and nearly get Papa taken away by those—those torturers?" She brandished a long wooden spoon like a knife.

"I'll magic her scurvy ass!" Finn said hotly.

"Me too! I'll make her croak like a frog!" Ariel snarled.

Jasmine waved around one of the clothes beaters they used for laundry, and said, "I'll make her run like a rabbit! Right out of Valley Way into the next kingdom."

"This is all my fault," Aurora groaned. "She did this to get back at me for beating her in the spinning contest."

"No, Rory. She did it because she's a jealous hag who can't stand the fact that she can't have whatever she wants," Archie disagreed.

"She brought this on herself, Aurora," Jeff said. "You didn't have anything to do with it. I'd like to beat her myself, the little wench."

Phillip and Nick came downstairs wearing their wooden swords. "Let's go, Bae. Let's give it to those cowardly Millers!"

"Yes!" cried Nora and June, they had knitting needles plucked from Rum's knitting basket.

Belle stared at her offspring, who looked like they were going to hunt down a murderer, and said, "I know you're angry about this, kids, I am too, but why don't you all calm down and listen to your father first?"

"No! Let's have a Miller bashing party!" Tom yelled, coming out riding Puss wearing his armor and carrying one of his toothpick spears.

"Yeah! I'm gonna beat nasty old 'Rachne's butt good!" Clary cried, coming into the hall with Ivy's broom in her small fist, and a scowl on her face that could have done an Amazon proud. "Nobody hurts my papa!"

"You go, Clary!" Bae chuckled. "Whack that stupid bitch!"

"Baelfire!" Rumple snapped. "Watch your mouth."

"Sorry, Papa. But what she did makes me mad enough to beat her, and I don't hit girls."

"Same here, but I'd take her over my knee," agreed Charming.

"Me too," Snow said, her eyes flashing. "What she did is a crime, Rum!"

"Exactly. And that's the reason you all are going to settle down and stop threatening to lynch the Millers," Rumple said sharply. "Clary, dearie, go and put the broom away."

"Aww, but Papa! I wanna beat her butt!" Clary pouted.

"I can do that myself, Clary," Rumple said, trying not to laugh. "Now put it away."

Clary heaved a sigh and then marched back into the kitchen, dragging the broom.

"Looks like you rubbed off on her, Alice," Belle snickered.

"Maybe. But her ma isn't any coward either, Belle," Alice said loyally.

Groaning, the rest of the children laid down their weapons.

"So what _are_ you going to do about her, Papa?" asked Elaina.

"I'm going to speak with her father tomorrow, and also Magistrate Henry. I'll make sure Rufus knows what he'll be facing if he doesn't bring his daughter to heel quicker than a blink," Rumple informed them.

"You mean, you'll take him to court?" asked Peter.

"You really think that'll work?" Rafe wanted to know.

"Usually when money's involved, people listen to you and act accordingly," his father replied. "And I know Rufus. He's a miser, he won't want to pay me a penny over a law suit that could be avoided."

"I still think we ought to tie her hair to a pole and drag her round the square by it," Jack lamented.

"Yeah, and take turns whacking her with brooms," Nick said wistfully. "Her and Bernard."

"Boys, stop it! I want no vendettas here, this is supposed to be the season of giving," Rumple frowned at them.

"But Papa, we _are_ giving," Jack said stubbornly. "Giving her what she deserves."

"You let me handle this, Jack Gold. Or else Arachne won't be the only child unhappy on solstice morning," Rumple warned. "Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Jack sighed. Then he brightened as a thought occurred to him. "Even if she doesn't get in trouble from her papa, Santa will make sure she gets exactly what she deserves. A nice willow switch."

"That's up to Santa," said Belle, though she fully agreed with them.

"All right, now it's getting late, so all of you get changed and go to sleep," Rumple said. He looked at the four friends. "Ruby, Archie, James, and Ray, you can sleep over if you want. There are extra blankets and pillows in the linen closet, the kids will show you where they are."

"You can borrow a nightgown from me," Kristen said to Ruby.

"I've got an extra pair of pants and a shirt for you, Archie," Finn offered.

"Same here," Bae said to James.

"Me too," Jack told Ray. "Let me get you a pillow."

Then they all trooped upstairs, still angry over the incident, but willing to let Rum handle it.

Rumple sighed, then busied himself writing notes to all the parents and sending them to their doors with an invisible wind sprite, letting them know their kids would be spending the night.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning found Rumple down in the village, knocking loudly on the Miller's front door. The house was quite large, with big windows facing the front and greenery decorating the walk and a huge wreath with a stuffed partridge in the middle of it hung on the door. Rumple thought his decorations were much more tasteful, but he supposed he was rather biased, considering.

He raised his gloved hand to knock again when the door was opened by a small teenaged girl dressed in a maid's black dress, white apron, and mobcap. "Morning, sir! How may I—ohh you be Master Gold, ain'tcha? The sorcerer on the hill!"

"That's right, dearie. Aren't you Polly Pearson's daughter?"

"Uh huh, sir. Name's Molly," she bobbed a quick curtsey. "I be working for the Millers through the solstice. Come in, sir. 'Tis cold as a witch's heart out there."

As Rumple entered the house, Molly shut the door behind him, then said, "You'll be wanting to see Master Miller, aye? I'll fetch him quicker than a blink, sir."

"Thank you, Molly," he called as the girl scurried away.

Soon the big frame of Rufus Miller, with his shock of red hair, arrived in the hallway, wearing a festive tunic of solstice green over his leather breeches and big black boots. "Hello, Gold. What brings you here? Do you need more flour or corn? I have a new grindstone, one of the new ones they make in the king's city. It has metal points on it, so it can grind twice as fine. Care to try it?"

"I'm fine right now, Rufus," Rumple began.

"Dad! Bentley pushed me into a wall!" Bernard yelled from the other room.

"Ben, knock it off, y'hear?" Rufus snapped. "Or else you can stay home and forget that little trip with your friends."

"Okay, Dad!" came Bentley's voice. "You're such a tattletale, Bernie."

"I am not."

"Kids!" Rufus sighed. "Well, you know how it is, right, Gold?"

"I do, Rufus. Actually I've come here to discuss something one of your children did to me. Would you mind if we spoke privately?"

"Sure, come this way," Rufus took Rumple into his office and shut the door. Then he leaned on his desk and said, "So, what's one of my boys done now? Gods, tell me they didn't wreck your castle or anything like that. I told them after Mischief Night to stay away, Gold."

"Rufus, I don't know if your sons were involved, but Arachne sure was," Rumple said.

"Arachne?" he repeated, as if the idea of his daughter in trouble were a foreign concept to him.

Rumplestiltskin told him about the witch hunters and how Arachne had slandered him, almost resulting in his capture and torture. "Rufus, I know she has a history with my daughter Aurora over that spinning contest, but this is taking jealousy and revenge or whatever too far. You know me, you know I was under a curse, but that was broken years ago. Have I ever threatened true harm to anyone without them first starting something with me or my family?"

Rufus shook his head. "No. You're one of the most even tempered sorcerers I've ever seen. Even when you turned Arachne into a spider that time, it wasn't for very long, and she came out of it okay. I . . . I did talk with her after that, told her she never shoulda tried to hit you. But she has some temper, that gal does. Gets it from her grandma, I think. But I can't believe she'd . . . uh . . . do that . . ."

"I'm not lying, Rufus. That witch hunter had me trapped with a Net of Binding. It could have ended badly if I hadn't gotten him to release me, and he told me Arachne had accused me of witching all of you and her with dark magic. That's a serious charge, Rufus, even here where we don't have bloody witch hunters. I know my reputation's not the greatest due to the Dark One's curse, but it has improved since Belle married me and I'd like to keep it that way."

"I understand, Gold."

"I came here to talk to you first before I filed a complaint of slander with the magistrate," Rumple informed him.

"Aww, Gold, don't do that!" Rufus protested. "We can settle it between us. I'll talk to her again, I promise."

Rumple sighed. "Rufus, if I were you, I'd do more than just talk to her this time. This wasn't any schoolgirl prank here, this could have had serious consequences for me and my family. You have to impress on her the stupidity of her actions. Now, I'm not going to tell you how to discipline your daughter, but if it were me—"

"—she'd be getting a good spanking, aye?" Rufus finished.

"In about two seconds," the sorcerer answered.

"I've never done that," the miller admitted. "Oh, I've walloped my boys once in a while when they've gotten too out of line, but she's my little girl, Gold. I don't think I could . . ."

"Look, Rufus, you don't have to take my advice. I know it's hard sometimes to discipline kids, and I'm not one to cut a switch and beat mine, despite what you might think. In fact, I don't even use a switch, just my hand. And I spank them rarely, only if they've truly earned it. I only spanked one of my girls, and that was for throwing a shoe at my head, and I hated doing that, but it was necessary. Do you understand where I'm coming from, Rufus?"

"Yeah, Gold, I hear you. I'm sorry she's caused you so much grief. She can be a royal pain sometimes, don't think I don't know it, but she's my little girl, and I love her. Gods, what a mess!" He ran his hands through his hair. "How about we make a deal, okay? I'll . . . uh . . . let you grind up your wheat and corn free of charge for . . . uh . . . a year in repayment and you don't go to the magistrate with your accusation. And I'll have Arachne apologize to you. Sound good?"

Rumple considered. Finally he nodded. "All right. I'd rather not be at odds with my neighbors, if I can help it. But Rufus, you have to do something about her, now while you still can, because if you leave it too long, she'll grow up to be impossible . . . as bad as Regina of the Enchanted Forest, just on a smaller scale."

Rufus winced. "Hells, Gold . . .!"

"If you can't discipline her, maybe your wife could?"

"Margie? She's like a slice of bread, Gold. Kids can walk all over her."

"Give her some consequences, Rufus. If you can't turn her over your knee, fine, but do _something_. Don't let this go. Think of it as for her own good, because that's what discipline is," Rumple offered.

Rufus sighed deeply. "Okay, Gold. I'll try."

"Do more than try, Miller. Do it."

"Too bad you couldn't—"

Rumple held up his hands. "No, Miller. Just . . . no. I'm angry enough now to do it, but . . . no. She's _your_ daughter, and it's _your_ job as a parent. I have enough with my own kids."

"Yeah, you're right. Don't know how the hell you do it, Gold."

"Some days I wonder that myself, Miller. Oh, and I've told my children to stay away from yours for the foreseeable future. Do me a favor and tell yours that, because we don't need a war here, and that's what we'll have unless we nip it in the bud now."

"Will do, Gold. And thanks . . . for not coming down here and turning all of us into slugs."

Rumple snorted. "I don't do that, Rufus. Not anymore. Remember what I said, though. And have a happy solstice." He turned and started to leave the office.

"You too, Gold," the miller called as he left. Then he put his head in his hands and groaned. "Dammit, girl! Now look what you've cost me!"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Things settled down once Rumplestiltskin had talked with the head of the Miller household, and Arachne did apologize to him . . . with a note sent round by Molly.

Belle frowned. "She ought to have come up here and said so to your face, Rum."

"I'll take what I can get, dearie. This is better than nothing. Maybe she was embarrassed to talk to me."

"Humph!" Belle snorted. "_I'd_ be embarrassed to have a daughter like her. Hopefully her father finally grew a pair and taught her some respect for her elders."

Rumple chuckled. "We'll see, won't we?"

Just then Tom and Gingy rushed into the parlor, both of them riding Puss. "Papa, we need your help!" his son called.

Puss sprang up on Rum's lap, so Tom could talk to him without shouting himself hoarse.

"What's wrong?" Rumple queried.

"Nothing's really wrong, Papa. Except I was worried about Gingy."

"What's the problem?" Rumple asked the gingerbread boy.

"Uh . . . Tom was afraid I could fall while I was riding Puss and break something . . . like an arm or a leg. I don't think it'd hurt much, since I'm, you know, a cookie, but . . ." Gingy answered.

"But it'd be terrible, Papa! He'd be _mended_. So I was wondering if you could, uh, cast a spell to uh, make him more like a person? Not change him, but . . . _preserve_ him?" Tom asked.

"Hmm . . . yes, I could. I just need to take a look through one of my spellbooks first," Rum acknowledged. "Follow me to the study, boys, and then we can see."

So Puss and the two small boys raced up the stairs and waited for Rumple in his study.

Ariel happened to be going by with Finn, and both musicians stared. "Tom, _you're_ in trouble? And Gingy?"

Finn looked shocked as well. "That happens . . . like once in a blue moon. What for?"

"Nothing!" Tom called back. "Papa needs to look up a spell for Gingy, that's all."

"Oh," Ariel chuckled. "Is that all?"

"I should have known better. Tom hardly ever is," Finn said, then they continued downstairs to practice for the holiday concert coming up on Wednesday.

Rum soon came up the stairs and entered his study. He unlocked his cabinet and took out two spellbooks and sat down and leafed through them. Like his daughter Ivy, he had a photographic memory, and soon he recalled where he had seen the preserving spell and flipped to the correct page. He spent a few moments studying the spell, then nodded once and shut the books and locked them back up.

"Come up here, Gingy," he said.

Puss sprang to his desk, then sat down and washed her face while Tom and Gingy slid down to the desktop. "Did you find one?" asked Tom.

"I did." Rumple said. "Now come stand over here, Gingy."

The cookie walked over to stand before him. "Will it hurt?"

"No. Though it might feel a bit . . . prickly," the sorcerer said. Then he stretched a hand over the gingerbread boy and spoke two words in the language of magic. Purple sparks drifted down over Gingy and were absorbed into his gingerbread body. "There! How's that feel?"

Gingy spun about. "I feel . . . great!" He tapped his foot on the desk.

"Good. You should be able to jump all over now and not worry about losing a foot or a hand," Rumple said.

"Yay! Thanks, Papa," Tom said gratefully. "Come on, Gingy! We've got some mice to catch. They were eating Ivy's solstice desserts in the pantry."

Gingy climbed back on Puss. "Let's get 'em!"

Tom climbed back atop the cat and gripped her collar. "Puss, let's hunt some mice," he told the cat, who licked her lips and then sprang off the desk and out the door.

"Good hunting, you three!" called the sorcerer as Puss's tail vanished through the doorway.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The night of the holiday concert arrived, and the Golds were among the first to arrive at the school auditorium where the concert was held. Since they practically took up three rows, they were given special seating so they could all sit together and see everything happening on the stage.

The fairies and children had decorated the auditorium to look like a winter scene, with paper snowflakes and glittering lights high up in the ceiling, and the curtain was a shimmering gauzy blue and the seats were changed to match, of soft blue glittery fabric. The programs were dusted with glitter and the words done in sharp blue ink with snowflakes drawn on them.

As soon as everyone was seated, Lyra flew out, she was halfway between her true size and human size, with great gauzy wings that glittered in the footlights, wearing a fantastically sparkling white and blue gown and twinkling shoes, her hair dusted with fairy glitter and her pointed ears had snowflake earrings in them.

"Welcome to this year's holiday concert!" she announced. "We have many talented individuals playing for you tonight, and singing as well. Please be courteous and refrain from throwing anything or screaming until the end of the concert, if you please. On your program are the names of all the performers and the pieces they will be performing, if you need a reference. And now, may I present our first piece, called "Midnight Star" performed by Finn Gold on the flute, and accompanied by Andrea Mason on the piano."

As she spoke, the curtain drew back to reveal a stage decorated to resemble a winter forest, and on one side under some blue lights was a baby grand piano with a girl dressed in a white robe and slippers, with gold hair, sort of like an angel, seated at it.

She rose and curtseyed gracefully to the audience, just as Finn came on stage from the left.

He was wearing soft velvet, all white, tunic, shirt, half-cloak, and breeches with white half-boots, that glimmered with fairy glitter. He bowed, coming to sit on what was a snow-covered log in the center. He waved to his family before taking up his familiar rosewood flute, his sandy hair gleaming like gilt under the lights.

"Look, Mama! There's Finn!" Clary shrilled, almost jumping off her seat.

"I see him, snippet. Now sit down and watch, he's going to play a song for us," Belle said, gently pulling the little girl down to sit beside her.

Andrea struck the opening notes on the piano, and after a few heartbeats, Finn began to play along.

The girl playing the piano was very good, she played with the sprightly air the piece called for, but Finn's flute eclipsed her.

He made the flute sing and conjure images in everyone's mind of the wind through the trees, and the stars shining down, and the serenity of the night.

He held the audience spellbound from the moment his fingers played the first chords to the end of the piece.

When the last note had died away, people started clapping enthusiastically.

Both performers rose and took their accolades, then the curtain closed long enough for Lyra to announce the next song, this one was a vocal piece, the traditional carol called Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

"Lead vocals are sung by Kerri Blue and Ariel Avonlea Gold," Lyra announced.

Ariel was dressed similarly to Andrea, in a soft white robe with a golden cord belt, and the simple clothing made her fiery hair stand out even more as she stood on stage in the center of seven girls who comprised the chorus.

"Yay! Ariel!" Clary cheered, and was hushed by her father.

Several people sitting nearby chuckled, then all grew still as Andrea began playing accompaniment on the piano and Ariel started singing, along with Kerri and the rest of the chorus.

Ariel's voice was pure and clear, like a ship's bell, she sang without the aid of any amplification, for she needed none. Everyone in the audience, even those in the back row, could hear her beautifully. Her rendition of the old tune made people laugh and start clapping their hands even before the song was over.

By the time the last notes had died away, the audience was applauding the young mermaid-turned-human, in awe of her voice.

The next few sets were part of a larger chorus and band, where Ariel sang and Finn played along with several others, with Lyra directing. It was great fun, as the pieces they did encouraged the audience to sing with them, and the audience did.

When they were finally over, they had solos again, this time one with Finn and Ariel alone called Heart of Winter, a haunting song about a girl who lost her way in a snowy wood and was found by a handsome prince, the heir to the Snow Kingdom and how he fell in love with common Abby Hart, the spinner's daughter.

The piece was quite tricky, with lots of trills and runs on the flute, and high notes, but Ariel and Finn played beautifully, making everyone gasp and clap and cry at the end, as the lovers parted.

_That_ received a standing ovation, and someone shouted, "Them two are bards for sure!"

"Aye, like we didn't already know it!" laughed someone else.

Finn and Ariel bowed, flushed with praise and the response of the audience.

Several more songs followed, most of which Finn was playing in, some with others on different instruments, and some accompanied by Ariel or another singer.

But the last song was one he played alone, just an instrumental, the finale for the concert, and also one he had written himself.

By then he was feeling tired, but he managed to grab a drink backstage that somehow revived him, as it was hot cocoa, and thus when he played for the final time, he did so with all of the mystery and beauty the piece called for, his fingers dancing over his flute, the notes swirling in the air.

The audience, including the Gold family, remained captivated until he released them, the last note echoing in the air. When it was over, people were frozen, tears drying upon their cheeks they didn't even remember crying.

After a moment, Finn rose, and bowed.

Then the audience sprang to life, clapping and yelling, and Elaina, Ivy, and the other girls threw white and blue roses on stage.

"Way to go, maestro!" yelled Bae, clapping loudly.

Clary was standing on her seat, screaming almost in Belle's ear, "Yay, Finn! Play it again!"

Finn was grinning, and he waved again, before trying to go off stage, but the crowd called him back.

So back he came, and played another short piece before taking his last bow.

Then Lyra joined him, saying over the tumult, "Thank you, everyone! Finn is my star performer, as I'm sure you can see why. And that last song was composed by him as well."

Then all the other performers came out on the stage to get their share of applause and flowers, giving them one final bow before the curtain came down and Lyra declared this concert was at an end and thanked all her performers for their hard work.

So many people were congratulating Finn, Ariel, and all the other kids who had performed in the concert, that at first Rumple and his family couldn't even get to them.

But gradually the frenzy died down and Rumple managed to slip through the knot of people and embrace Ariel, saying, "You were brilliant, my lovely girl! My gods, you made me cry with that last song, and I never do that. Your voice is the finest I've ever heard, dearie, and then some."

Ariel hugged him back, happy tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad you liked it, Papa! At first I was so nervous I almost threw up, but Finn told me to just pretend everybody was naked, and then I was okay."

Rumple laughed, then handed her to Belle, who hugged her and exclaimed, "You were wonderful, Ari! You sang like a professional, sweetie, and this was your first concert too!"

Finn was busy shaking the hand of Geppetto, who was saying, "You play that flute _belissimo_, Finn! Good enough to make an angel weep, I tell you, eh, Pinocchio?"

Pinocchio nodded. "Yeah, you really are good. Could you teach me, sometime?"

"I will, just as soon as I feel up to it," Finn said. "I just need a little break, okay? Before my fingers become glued to my flute."

People chuckled at that statement, and then Finn turned, his green eyes glowing, and saw his father standing there. He ran over to the sorcerer and Rum hugged him, almost picking him up off the ground. "Oh, Papa! It was so much work, but it was all worth it."

"You did incredible, lad! Taliesin himself couldn't have played better," Rum praised. "That last piece, did you know there wasn't a dry eye in the house?"

"And I didn't even need my magic," Finn laughed.

"You're a true bard, son," Belle said, coming up and hugging him also. "And your new baby brothers or sisters think so too," she smiled, indicating her now huge middle.

Finn crouched and felt along her stomach, saying, "Hey, kids! How was that?"

He was rewarded with a sharp kick or punch in response. "Whoa! Take it easy! Before you pop out of Mom before you're ready!" He looked up at Belle. "Are they always that . . . jumpy?"

"Only when they get excited," his mother said, smiling.

Just then Bae and Rafe came up and they grabbed Finn and put him on their shoulders, yelling, "Maestro, you rule!"

Then they marched out of the auditorium with him, singing snatches of holiday carols.

Behind him, Ariel was receiving similar treatment from Aurora, Rennie, and Elaina.

It was the muscians' finest hour.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The holiday concert was the beginning of the festivities at the Dark Castle.

The next day was December 22nd, and to celebrate, the kids and the adults, even Belle, had one massive snow war with each other. They divided into teams, one had Rumple and Belle as captains and the other had Jeff and Alice.

They built a snow fort and took turns trying to storm each other's walls, and though Rumple didn't use his magic for that, he did use it to make the snow harder and therefore easier to make snowballs from. Bae had the brilliant idea of using Phillip and Clary, both of whom were on Rum's team, to crawl through the snow and attack Jeff's team from behind.

They had a sneak attack and took out Alice, Elaina, and Nora, which caused Jeff to nearly surrender. "You're sneakier than a dragon looking for dinner, Rum!" Jeff cried, shaking his fist at the sorcerer.

He tried the same thing with Kristen, but she only tagged Belle before Finn saw her and nailed her in the head with a snowball.

In the end it came down to Rumple and Jeff, each of whom was a champion snowball thrower.

But finally, Rum managed to hit Jeff on the arm and win the war.

As they all went back to the castle to get warmed up, Jeff groused, "Hey, what's with me being all covered with snow, Rum, and you look like you just walked out of some fashion magazine?"

Belle eyed her husband, who was virtually untouched by any particle of snow and said mischievously, "Why I do believe you're right, Jeff." She sidled up to him, a hand behind her back.

"What's that have to do with anything?" Rumple asked with a smug grin. "Are you cold, dearie?" He smiled at Belle.

"A little," she admitted.

"This'll warm you up," her husband said, and he took her in his arms and went to kiss her.

Belle allowed him to lose himself in her kiss . . . just as she shoved the snowball in her hand down the back of his shirt.

"Ahh! My gods, Belle!" he yelped, jerking out of her embrace. "That was cruel!" he cried, shaking his shirt until all the snow fell out.

"No, that was brilliant!" Jefferson hooted, then he tossed a snowball right in his friend's face. "Here, buddy! Here's an early solstice gift!"

"So, you want to play rough, do you, Jeff?" Rum mock-growled as he wiped snow off his face.

"Rum, hey, remember, I'm your friend—" Jeff said, slowly backing away. He made a dash for the kitchen door, but never made it.

About twenty snowballs suddenly flew through the air and buried him, leaving only his head showing.

"You were saying?" his friend smirked.

"Rum! It was a joke!"

"And he who laughs last, laughs best, Jeff!"

"Okay, now get me out of here! Rum! Hey, where the hell are you going?" Jeff shouted as his best friend walked away and entered the castle. "_Hey_! Rumplestiltskin! Come back here, dammit! You want me to freeze my ass off?"

Rumple let him stew for a few minutes, then came back outside and banished the snow. "It's a little cold out here, huh, Hatter?"

"Oh, real funny!" Jeff said, brushing himself off. "That's the last time I have a snowball fight with you!"

"Those words sound familiar. You said that last year," Rum sniggered, then he followed Jefferson inside.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

That night was the first holiday dinner, followed by the gift exchange between the siblings, Jeff, Alice, Belle, and Rumple. The four adults exchanged gifts with each other, with each couple getting a gift for the other one, and also for each other. The children exchanged gifts with one of their siblings, so no one had to kill themselves making seventeen gifts.

And all the children got one big gift for their parents and for Jeff and Alice.

For dinner that night was a huge standing rib roast basted with basil, garlic, and sage, lying on a bed of crackling fried onions. It was surrounded by roasted potatoes and carrots.

There was also creamed spinach, corn, and bacon wrapped shrimp on skewers. By each child's plate was a chocolate shaped sleigh. Everyone had a glass of sparkling cider, except Alice and Jeff also had a shot of whiskey.

Beside Gingy's place was a plate full of gumdrops, lemon suckers, and taffy, since the cookie could only eat certain types of candy.

For dessert there were ice cream sundaes, solstice cookies, eggnog, and cocoa with peppermint candy straws.

Then came the gift exchange, with each child handing a gift to the other one, and the adults as well.

"We figured you could use this, Belle," Jeff announced and handed her a package wrapped up with a bunch of soft blankets tied with a pretty bow.

Belle unwrapped it to find a beautiful mobile, with unicorns, teacups, spinning wheels, and purple hearts. "Oh, this is gorgeous, Jeff! This will go perfectly in the nursery! Thanks so much, Alice!"

"I picked out the designs," her friend laughed.

"Hey, I helped!" objected Jeff.

"You did a great job, buddy!" Rumple clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, see what we got you."

Jeff opened the gaily wrapped package to reveal . . . "A cuckoo clock! Hey, I always wanted one! Alice, look at this. When you turn the hands to twelve o'clock it opens and a little . . . _dragon_ comes out?"

They gasped as a small dragon popped out, breathing fake fire, instead of the usual bird.

"It's a dragon cuckoo clock!" Rum laughed.

"That's so neat!" Alice grinned.

Belle's gift from Rumple was a swansdown cloak, woven of the finest wool the Shepherds produced, in an ivory color accented by a rose in purple on the clasp, with the swansdown on the inside.

"Oh! It's amazing, Rum!" she cried, then she gave him his gift, which was a magic potion book called _Rare Elixirs and Antidotes_.

"I can really use this, Belle. Thanks, sweetheart," he said, kissing her.

Then he looked over at Jeff and Alice.

Alice had given Jeff a new sword, and he and the boys were exclaiming over it for a little bit, before Jeff recalled something and pulled Alice beneath the kissing bough in the hall.

Then he kissed her, long and deeply.

All the children snickered.

Jeff ignored them and said, "That was one present from me. And here's the other one." He quickly knelt in front of her. "Alice, will you marry me?"

Alice almost fell over. "Good gods! You . . . you're proposing?"

"Sure am, sweetheart," Jeff said, holding out the ring.

"Then I accept!" Alice cried, then Jeff slid the ring on her finger and kissed her again.

The kids laughed and cheered.

"When are you getting married, Uncle Jeff?" asked Phillip curiously.

"Oh, not for awhile yet, Phil. Like maybe this May?" Jeff said. "We need time to plan the wedding."

"And time for the twins to get born so Belle can be my matron-of-honor," Alice said, showing her the ring.

"Oh, it's lovely, Alice!" Belle squealed. "When did you pick it out, Jeff?"

"I took him down to Jared's when you two were sewing some baby clothes," Rumple smirked. "I see you went with my suggestion, Hatter."

"Hell, yeah. What do I know about jewelry, Rum? You're the one who likes all that fancy stuff, Gold."

"Shut up, Jeff! You make me sound like a pansy-ass," his friend growled.

"If the shoe fits . . ." Jeff began, then ducked Rumple's smack on the ear.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

From the children, Rumple and Belle got a weekend to the same cottage at the seashore they'd spent their honeymoon at that summer, just them alone and no children allowed. Jeff and Alice got the same, only on a different weekend.

Then finally the night of December 24th was here, and Rumple, Jeff, Belle, and Alice made plans to put their gifts for the children beneath the tree before going to bed that night, once all the children were asleep.

Little did they know that two of their brood was also making plans . . . to sneak down and peek at Santa when he came down the chimney in the parlor and went to put the presents beneath the tree.

"First we gotta put out the milk an' cookies," Phillip said to Clary. He got the cup that the Avonleas always used, with the holly around the rim and the gold handle, and filled it with goat's milk.

Clary got the plate which said _For Santa From the Golds_ and put one of each kind of cookie they'd made on it. "Now you gotta write the note, Phil," she reminded.

Phillip got a red crayon and some parchment and wrote, in his best printing:

_Dear Santa,_

_These are for you. Just don't eat Gingy by mistake!_

_Happy Solstice!_

_Love,_

_Phillip and Clary Gold_

He put the note right by the cup of milk and the plate, so it would be easily seen.

Then they scampered upstairs to sleep . . . or so thought their parents and doting uncle and soon-to-be aunt.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Phillip managed to sleep for an hour or so, then he woke and kept himself awake by pinching himself until he heard the clock downstairs chime eleven o'clock. He then slipped from his bed and snuck into Clary's room and shook her awake.

"C'mon! It's time to go down and hide!" he hissed.

Yawning, Clary got up and they tiptoed downstairs and found everything quiet, with small mageglobes burning in the hall and the sitting room. They slipped behind the small sofa in the sitting room just as footsteps walked across the floor.

Gasping, Clary and Phillip peeked out from behind the sofa, eager to catch a glimpse of the elusive jolly old man in the red suit.

To their delight, they _did_ see a man in a red suit putting packages beneath the tree. He had a long white beard and a hat and black boots, just like in the stories.

"Where's the reindeer?" Clary hissed to her brother.

"Outside, duh!"

"Oh. But . . ." she frowned. "How come he's not fat?"

Phillip shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe he went on a diet."

"On the holiday?" Clary scowled.

"Well, if he eats all the cookies kids leave, he won't be able to fit through the chimney if he's already fat," Phillip pointed out. "So maybe that's how he gets like that."

"Oh." Clary nodded, thinking that made some sense.

The two watched, almost trembling with delight, as Santa put prettily wrapped packages beneath the tree. Then they heard more footsteps and suddenly Belle appeared next to the tree, her arms filled with some more presents.

"Here. I got these," she whispered, and Santa took them from her and put them beneath the tree.

"That's the last of them, right?" he asked her.

"Uh huh." Belle stood and admired the way the tree glowed in the light of the mageglobes.

"Wow! Look at all the presents!" Phillip murmured.

"And some of them are ours!" Clary grinned. Then she gasped. "Look, Phil! Mama . . . Mama's _kissing_ Santa!"

"What?" Phillip almost fell on the floor as he saw Belle, his pregnant mother, actually _kissing_ Santa Claus! "Gods, Clary! What do we do?"

"Do? They're grown-ups, Phillip. Grown-ups kiss each other all the time."

"Yeah, if they're married!" Phillip cried, scandalized. "And Mom's married to Papa, not Santa!"

"Look, they've stopped," his sister whispered. "I think it's okay if Mama kisses Santa, Phil. I mean, he's old. And maybe it's like when she kisses Unca Jeff."

"She ain't _never_ kissed Uncle Jeff like that!"

"Maybe she was showing Santa how to do it. For when he gets married."

"Huh? Who's he marrying?"

"I dunno. Maybe he ought to marry Granny? They're both old and stuff."

"If he's kissing Mom like that, he really needs a wife," Phillip whispered in her ear. "Before Papa sees and hexes his butt off."

Clary put a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles. "Maybe we need to leave another note."

"We gotta wait till they leave," her brother reminded her.

They waited till Santa and Belle left the room, but by then they were sleepy, since it seemed to take forever for them to walk away. Phillip started nodding off and decided he'd just put his head down and rest for a minute.

Clary yawned and followed suit, and before they knew it, they were fast asleep, curled behind the sofa, with visions of sugarplums and cookies dancing in their heads as well as Granny in a white wedding dress walking Santa down the aisle.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Damn! This thing itches!" Rumple said as he pulled the fake beard and wig off his head in their bedroom upstairs. "I can't believe you actually made me wear this, Belle."

"Oh, quit your grousing, Rum! It was just in case one of the kids happened to sneak down and see," his wife said. "Besides, I kept my end of the bargain. You got a kiss out of it."

"I ought to get five kisses," he grumbled, pulling off the red suit, which he'd worn over his clothes. "I almost roasted in this thing!" He placed the suit in the back of his armoire.

Belle came up behind him and hugged him. "I love you, Rum."

He turned around and cupped her face in his hands. "Love you too, dearie."

Then they kissed again, even more deeply than before.

They broke off when they heard the sound of sleigh bells jingling and the scrape of a boot as it came down the chimney.

"Well, he's arrived right on time," Rumple smirked. "Shall we go and say hello?"

"You mean . . . you actually have met him?" Belle gasped.

"Yes. A few times. Come, I'm sure he'd like to meet you, dearie," said her husband.

He helped Belle into the magic chair and then limped along down the stairs, using his dragon-headed cane.

Together, they walked over to the tree and waited there.

They saw two black boots sticking out of the fireplace, and then with a pop! a fat man with a long white beard and hair wearing a red suit was in the room. He brushed himself off, the soot vanishing like magic from his clothing and the air, then turned and read the note beside the cookies and milk.

He let out a soft belly laugh, and put the note down.

"Hello, Santa. What did my children write now that's so funny?" Rumple asked.

Santa turned around, lowering his magic sack to the floor, and smiled at the sorcerer. "Well, hello again, Rumple! You mean you didn't read the note Phillip and Clary left?"

"I didn't really have time," he admitted.

"They asked me not to eat Gingy," Santa chuckled.

"Oh, yes. Gingy's our gingerbread boy come to life. Ivy . . . magicked him by mistake," Rumple explained.

"Was it?" queried Santa. "The solstice magic doesn't make mistakes, Rumple. I think Tom needed a friend."

"Very true," the sorcerer acknowledged. "You'd know best, wouldn't you? Santa, I'd like you to meet my wife—"

"Belle Avonlea!" exclaimed the old man. "Why, I left you a rose bush one year, if I remember right. When you were twelve."

"That's right!" Belle cried. "It was just after my mother had passed away and I wanted something . . . to remember her by. And when I woke up solstice morning, there was a rosebush with some soil wrapped with a big green bow under my tree! I still have that bush, it's out in the arbor. And the roses from it smell beautiful."

"They were your mother's favorite. Purple Damask, I believe. Congratulations on your marriage, Belle! And on your two new babies! You'll have some fun with them." He winked at her.

"Do you know what they are then, Santa?" she asked.

"Well, I may be able to figure that out. But I figure you'd want to be surprised," Santa said, then he took a cookie and ate it. "Mmm. Chocolate spice! One of my favorites! Yours too, Rumple, if I recall."

"You do. I think you probably remember almost everything about my childhood, once you started coming to my house."

"I remember leaving you a fuzzy green blanket one year. Along with a chocolate cat."

"Yes. We were freezing that year. And I was hungry," Rumple recalled.

"Another year I left you a stuffed kitten."

"Holding a box of various buttons. I gave the kitten to Ivy when she was a baby. And then she gave it to Clary, who still has it. She calls it Mopsy," Rumple said.

"And the buttons?" asked Belle.

"I used them to make a vest for Jeff," her husband replied.

"But you made the best use of the one gift I didn't give you, Rumplestiltskin."

"What was that?"

"The gift of love. Even though you were denied it by your own parents, you learned how to love and to share that love with your own children, and now with Belle also. And that is the greatest gift of all, and the hope of the solstice season. You should be proud of yourself, my fellow magician."

Rumple blushed. "Umm . . . well . . ."

Santa chuckled again, and ate two cookies and drank the milk. Then he walked over to the tree and began putting presents beneath it. When the sack was empty, he paused and said, "Hmm . . . I'm missing one. Now what . . . ah, yes, I remember now!"

"Whose are you missing?" asked Belle.

"Ivy's. Because I need to go and fetch him."

"Him? What is it, another pet?" asked Rumple.

Santa put a finger aside of his nose and winked. "No. It's Myrnin. Her wish for this year is to see him again. So I need to fetch him here. Poor boy, he needs a break anyhow. War is no good for children, makes them grow up too fast."

"That's a war he shouldn't be fighting," Rumple frowned.

Santa nodded sadly. "But his father . . . ahh . . . he values his youngest too little, I fear."

"So you'll bring him to us then?" asked Belle.

"Yes. It's here he has his heart," answered Santa. "And here he can mend somewhat from the horrors of the war."

"We'll do what we can to help him," Rumple said.

Santa ate another cookie. "I figured as much. You are to him what Mary Hatter was to you so long ago. The last light in a dark place." Then he snapped his fingers. "Ah! Mustn't forget the animals." He reached into his sack again and pulled out a large jar of honey with Baron's name on it, a gigantic meaty bone for Rajah, a smaller one for Rowan, a whole mackerel for Puss, a bunch of carrots and sugar lumps for Rogue, Flicker, and Steady, and a bottle of honeyed water for Sweetheart.

After he had placed the presents for the animals, he paused, then looked towards the sofa, and said quietly, "You might want to put Clary and Phillip back in bed, they'll get stiff sleeping on the floor like that."

Belle blinked. "What? But they already are in bed."

"Look behind the sofa," Santa said simply.

Rumple did, and saw his youngest two asleep. "What on earth? Oh . . . they were trying to get a look at you. Jeff and I tried that once, only we fell asleep too."

"Of course you did. The solstice magic won't let children stay up to see me. Part of my mystique. It's only when you're an adult that you can see and speak with me. An adult who believes, that is."

"Then someone who doesn't believe can't see you?" Belle clarified.

"No. I might as well not exist to them. Regina, for instance. She never believed in me, not even as a child. Her mother forbade it. But Snow believes, and so I can leave gifts for her."

"I have a question for you," Rumple said. "Have you found that your influence can help a child to grow up to be a good person?"

"Well, that depends on the person. Some people have good childhoods and yet can turn out to be awful people as adults. And the reverse is true as well. Or they simply stay the same as both children and adults. Take James Hook, for instance. He ended up on my Naughty list more than once as a child, and as a man, well you would know what he's like better than I would."

"A thieving, murdering scoundrel," Rumple growled. "What about Milah?"

"She was normally a good child, only made the Naughty list twice as an older child, but she made some poor decisions as an adult, and those decisions marked out her life path. She could change, indeed even Hook could change, but they have to want it. And, sadly, they don't. They like what they've become. Pirates, freebooters, buccaneers. And thus, they've chosen their own destiny. As have you, Rumple. You need not blame yourself for what Milah has become, she did it to herself."

"How did you know . . .?" Rumple asked, shocked.

"The solstice magic lets me know certain things sometimes. Like it did just now."

"I . . . for a long time I did blame myself. I thought I could have done something differently . . .made her choose us . . . but I was wrong."

"Yes. In the end, the choice was always hers, and she chose Hook over her family. She might accuse you of forcing her into that decision, but that's not so. You didn't drive her away, she left on her own. That being so, to blame yourself for her choice is foolish."

"Yes. I see that now." He bent and picked up Clary in his arms, setting her on the sofa. Then he picked up Phillip and did the same thing, covering them with an afghan.

"May the joys of the solstice be upon you, Rumplestiltskin and Belle Gold. Now, I must be going. I have a few more houses here in Valley Way to visit."

"Like the Millers?" Rumple asked shrewdly.

Santa nodded. "Yes, though some in that house will not be too pleased with my visit. And I must bring Myrnin back here. Farewell for now!" he called, then he whooshed up the chimney with his now empty sack.

In a few moments he was back, and Belle said, "Goodness, have you gone and returned so fast?"

"No. I . . . err . . . have a small problem," Santa said, looking rather embarrassed. "My reindeer, as you know, have a spell cast over them which enables them to fly. But . . . the spell has never lasted me the whole night. It has just faded, and now my reindeer are earthbound. Which will slow me down incredibly. I was wondering, Rumple, if I might have the loan of your mare to fetch Myrnin?"

"I can do better than that, Santa," said Rumple. "I've been . . . experimenting with a few things this past week in my lab. One of them is a magic feed corn. It will give an animal the ability to fly for a period of twenty-four hours. I have no idea why I felt like making that, but nevertheless, I have."

"And do you have some of this to test?" asked Santa eagerly.

"Yes, I happen to have a small bag."

"How fortunate!" Belle said.

"That's the solstice magic at work, putting those things I need in my path," Santa said, smiling.

"Let me summon it for you," Rumple said, then he did so.

The bag zoomed into his hand, and he handed it to Santa. "This should be enough for you to enchant your deer for the rest of the night."

"Magic feed corn," Santa murmured. "I should have thought of this before. Might I have the recipe, Rumple?"

The sorcerer snapped his fingers and the paper with the magical spell appeared in his hand. "Here you go. I've found it works best on corn rather than wheat or hay. Most animals enjoy corn anyhow."

"Thank you, Rumple. As one archmagus to another, I salute you," Santa said. "May the blessings of the solstice be upon you and yours!"

He disappeared up the chimney again, and this time didn't return.

Rumple and Belle waited up for Santa to bring Myrnin back, sitting on the sofa on either side of the sleeping children.

In about twenty minutes, they heard a sharp tapping at the castle doors. Rumple moved then and opened the door.

Myrnin stood there on the steps, his bow on his back, his face painted with zigzag lightning patterns, wearing the outfit and mail of an elven ranger, looking somewhat shocked. "Rum? Some strange man in a red suit came and said he was there to take me to Ivy for her solstice gift, so I went with him. I was intending to come home—I mean, to your castle—as soon as I got leave, but to hell with that now . . ."

"This is your home too, lad. I told you that last time I saw you," Rumple said.

"I . . . must have forgotten. I'm so tired, Rum . . . so sick of fighting . . . it never ends . . ." the boy said wearily, sounding far older than his fourteen years.

"For now it has, lad. Welcome back, Myrnin." Rumple stepped back to let Myrnin enter the castle.

Myrnin crossed the threshold, stumbling a little, and fell into Rum's arms, exhausted, but knowing that he had come home again at last.


	53. Solstice Gifts

**53**

**Solstice Gifts**

Rumple carefully shut the doors and barred them with magic, after putting an arm about the exhausted Myrnin and leading him into the sitting room. "That man in the red suit was a being called Santa Claus, lad. He's a magician like me, and on the night of the Winter Solstice his magic reigns supreme. He goes throughout the realms bringing presents to all the good children who believe in him and his message of hope and love, and he also comes to the naughty children as well."

"He leaves them gifts?" Myrnin asked, horrified.

"No, he leaves them a reminder to be good, usually a lump of coal, and in the really bad cases, a willow switch magicked to give them a sound spanking for their wicked ways," Rum explained.

Myrnin's mouth quirked up in a small half-smile. "Sounds like my kind of guy." Then he caught sight of Belle on the settle next to the sleeping Clary and Phillip and his eyes widened. "Belle, you're . . . uh . . . expecting?"

"Hello, Myrnin! That's right, I wasn't showing then, so you wouldn't know," Belle smiled. "We're having twins."

"A double blessing, lady," Myrnin said. "At least among my people it is." He came to hug her. "My apologies for showing up like this," he motioned to his mail shirt and war paint. "But this . . . Santa person got me right off the battlefield, so . . ."

"We understand," Belle said, hugging him. "And you're always welcome here. He brought you for Ivy, but we've missed you too, and hope you'll stay with us through the holiday."

"I'd like that. It's been so long . . . months . . . since I've been anywhere except living rough in the forest . . . I feel like a damn barbarian . . ."

"Oh, Myrnin! You need time . . . time to rest . . . and to remember that there is still goodness here . . . and peace . . ." Belle said, stroking his hair.

He sighed into her shoulder. "Sometimes I think peace is a dream . . . a dream I lost when I returned to my people . . . but maybe here . . . I can find it . . . find me again . . ." He sniffled sharply, blinking away the threatened tears.

"The war . . . is it going badly for them?"

"No . . . it's pretty much as expected . . . we're winning on some days, losing on others . . . but the city is safe and so are most of the people, we're scattered about in small holts, but our dark kin haven't annihilated us yet. Nor will they, now that my brother is well enough to be war leader again alongside my father. I'm just . . . sick to death of blood and death and tears, that's all."

Rumple returned with a pillow, sheets, and a fuzzy green blanket . . . the same blanket he'd received so long ago as a solstice gift. "Myrnin, you'd best sleep here tonight . . . so you're the first thing Ivy sees when she comes down in the morning."

"Rum, what about . . .?" Belle looked at her two youngest.

Her husband waved a hand and they vanished from the settle. "I put them back to bed, dearie." He placed the pillow and linens on the couch. Then he gestured again and Myrnin's mail coat vanished to reappear on an armor stand in the hall. "There, lad! Would you like a bath as well?"

"A real one? I can barely recall what that's like," the half-blood prince replied. He wrinkled his nose. "Please, if it's not too much trouble. I don't want Ivy to see me like this."

"It's no trouble. Come, there's my white bathroom down here, with running water. I have a spare shirt and some trousers for you as well, you're almost my height, but I can adjust them to fit you if you need it . . ." He led the young sorcerer down the small hall towards the bathroom just off the dining room.

"Thanks, Rum. I've returned here almost the same way I did before, with nothing except the clothes on my back, like a vagabond mercenary . . ."

"So? Jeff's come home just like you a handful of times, lad, I'm used to it," Rumple said calmly. He summoned some clothing while running the water. "Take as long as you want. I'm going to help Belle upstairs, she needs her sleep. Just don't drown while I'm gone."

Rumple went to help Belle upstairs, leaving the half-elf to soak in the tub.

He returned some fifteen minutes later to find the boy had drifted off to sleep. Suppressing a chuckle, he bent and shook the lean shoulder, which bore a half-healed scar upon it. "Myrnin, wake up," he called softly.

The reaction he got was totally unexpected.

In an eyeblink, the hazel eyes snapped open and a hand came up out of the water, glowing with eldritch power. In mere seconds, a glittering ball of energy had formed in the boy's palm and he flung it at the startled Rumplestiltskin.

Instinctively, Rumple shielded himself, and the ball of destructive force bounced away and fizzled. "Myrnin! Easy, lad! It's me, not an enemy."

Myrnin blinked, coming out of the hair trigger edge that had possessed him. He stared at his hand, which still had wisps of power clinging to it and then at his mentor and cringed. "Starseekers, I almost . . . I'm so sorry, Rum . . . I thought . . . gods of the wood, I didn't mean . . . I'm sorry . . . I dreamed I was back there and when you touched me . . ."

"I understand, lad. Now calm down. It's all right," he soothed.

"No, it's not. I almost fried you," the boy said, anguished.

"I ought to know better than to wake a spellcaster fresh off of a battlefield that way. You're still on edge, boy, just like a merc coming off of a hard campaign." He banished his shield.

Ashamed, Myrnin ducked his head, wishing he'd drowned himself rather than offer harm to the man he'd grown to love and respect the way he never had his own father. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm a screwed up mess."

"Every soldier is, lad, when they first come home," Rumple said simply. "You need to relax and rest, and those hair-trigger reactions will subside."

Flushing, the half-elf rose and wrapped himself in a towel, saying softly, "Really? I'm dangerous, Rum, especially when I first wake up. Maybe you ought to snap those bracelets on me again, so I don't kill one of your kids."

"No, lad. I won't bind your magic like that."

He gazed up at him from the fall of dark hair across his eyes. "You don't understand. Sometimes I have nightmares . . . everyone in my company knows not to wake me, otherwise they could become a casualty. That wasn't just a ball of light, Rum, it was a killing spell . . ."

"I know what it was," the sorcerer said evenly. "Get dressed then come lie on the sofa. I'll give you a potion to help you sleep without dreams."

"You'd be better off using those cuffs of binding or whatever they are."

"No. You're not my enemy, Myrnin, and I won't treat you like one. Now do as I say," he ordered quietly, then he left the room.

Myrnin shivered, then dried off and dressed in the soft woolen clothing Rumple had provided. He ran a hand over his hair and within seconds it was dry, crackling about his head like dandelion fluff.

Then he went back to the settle, where Rumple had set up a bed for him. He sank onto the cushions, wrapping the fuzzy green blanket about him. Gods, he was tired! But he was afraid to sleep. What if Ivy woke him and he hurt her? He would rather die a thousand deaths than harm a single hair on her head.

Rumple returned then carrying a milky potion in a small vial. "Here, Myrnin. Drink this, it'll make you sleep without dreams."

He took the potion and drank it wordlessly. Then he said, "I'm sorry."

"Hush, now. The one who ought to be sorry isn't you, lad, but your bloody father, turning a fourteen-year-old into a blasted soldier. Lie down."

Half-amused, the prince of the _il-Shennara_ obeyed and lay down, letting his mentor gently tuck him in, something no one had done since his mother had died that terrible spring long ago. He could feel the potion take effect and he closed his eyes and sighed.

A moment later, he felt a hand gently carding his hair. "Sleep, lad. Sleep without dreams and when you wake your true love shall be beside you."

Myrnin yawned, feeling himself slip into that twilight world between dreaming and wakefulness. And he was no longer afraid.

Rumple continued stroking the boy's glossy raven hair until he saw Myrnin's breathing deepen into true sleep. Then he rose, kissed the youngster's forehead as he had done countless times to his own children, and murmured, "The blessings of the solstice be upon you, son. Good night."

As he made his way back upstairs, hoping to get in a few hours of sleep before the children woke and chaos began, the star winked at him from the treetop, its unwavering light falling on the sleeping half-elf prince, the lost traveler who had found his way to their door.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Solstice morning:_

Despite being the last ones asleep last night, Phillip and Clary were the first ones awake the next morning, even before Ivy, who was normally an early riser. Phillip opened his eyes, expecting to still be behind the sofa, and instead found himself back in his bed.

"Huh? How'd I get here?" he wondered for a moment, then he jumped out of bed, suddenly not caring if he ever solved that mystery, and ran barefoot down the hall towards Rumple and Belle's room. As he did so, Clary came out of her room, which she shared with Ivy, also barefoot, and in a cute pink and white striped nightgown.

"Phil! It's morning time!" she crowed.

"Yeah, and we gotta hurry up and wake Papa and Mama to go downstairs to see all the presents Santa left!" her brother said. He was wearing his usual night clothes, a pair of soft creamy woolen pants and a blue shirt that reached his knees.

Together, they skipped down the hall to their parents' room.

"I sure hope the door's not locked," Phillip muttered.

"Then we'll just knock till they open it," his sister replied.

"Okay. Ready?" He set his hand on the knob.

It turned!

Phillip threw open the door.

He could just make out the canopied bed in the middle of the room, and two shapes beneath the pretty gold and green holly comforter. "They're asleep!"

"Duh! 'Course they are. Now let's wake 'em up," Clary said, and she got a running start and then leaped up on the bottom of the huge bed. She rapid crawled over to where Rumple was snoozing and pounced on him, kissing his cheek and then yelling right in his ear, "Wake up, Papa! Wake up! It's solstice morning!"

Rumplestiltskin woke up so quickly he almost got whiplash. "Clarissa! Good gods!" He rubbed his left ear, wincing. "I think I've gone deaf, snippet." He sat up, still half-tangled in the covers, rubbing his eyes.

Clary bounced happily . . . right on his middle. "Come on, Papa! Get up!"

He grunted. "Clary, quit jumping on me. Before I act like your mother a month ago." He caught his excited daughter and set her beside him on the bed.

"Real nice, Rum," Belle muttered a bit tartly, as she opened her eyes.

"Mom! Wake up, it's solstice!" Phillip shrilled and took a running jump and landed beside her.

"I'm awake," Belle yawned.

Just as her husband said warningly, "Phillip Gold, no jumping on your mother. Or else I'll take you across my knee."

"I'm not, Papa!" his son cried. "I'm next to her, see?" Phillip bounced on the edge of the bed to illustrate his point.

"Rum, don't be a grouch," Belle ordered, sitting up as well, one hand on her large middle.

"I don't want him hurting you, that's all," her husband replied, half-apologetically. "I nearly got squished in half by Clary here." He ruffled her hair playfully.

"I'll be careful, Papa, I don't want the babies to get hurt," his son reassured him. Then he added wistfully, "But could you _please_ get up now? We wanna see if Santa left us anything."

"Were you good?" Belle asked, smirking.

"Well . . . yeah . . . I think so," Phillip said.

"I was. I didn't draw nothin' on the wall in a long time!" Clary stated. "And I shared with B'linda too when she was over, even though she's a bossypants."

Rumple started snickering. "I think you two have been very well-behaved. Now go wake up your brothers and sisters. Oh, and tell them no opening anything until we come down there."

"And I need a cup of tea first!" Belle called as the twin whirlwinds scurried out the door. She looked at Rumple and groaned. "Is it really morning already? I was hoping I was dreaming."

"Tell me about it," he yawned, then he threw back the covers and thrust his feet into his slippers. "Come on, lovely lady, we'd better get moving before a riot happens."

Belle levered herself up from the bed. "You can handle it, Rum. I need the bathroom."

"Do you need help, sweetheart?" he offered.

"No, love. Not just yet." She waddled across the room. "Oh no! You two go back to sleep! It's gods-know what time in the morning," she scolded the twins inside her.

Rum looked at the clock on the mantle. "Six thirty."

Just then they heard doors slamming and feet running down the hall. Then Rowan barking and Sweetie neighing.

"Sounds like the riot's already starting," groaned their harried father, and he grabbed his cane and limped towards the stairs, hoping his enthusiastic brood wouldn't knock him over as they ran crazily down the stairs.

As he started down the staircase, he met Snow walking down, her hair hanging down her back, in a pretty mint green bedgown and soft blue slippers. The girl's eyes were wide in her pretty face. "Rum? What's happening?"

He blinked, then realized that she might have never celebrated a solstice morning like this before. "It's the annual rush to the tree to see what Santa left on solstice morning, dearie. You mean you've never done this before?"

"Well . . . sort of," she said. She recalled running down the grand staircase when she was a child, and waiting patiently for her father the king to come in the drawing room and watch her open her gifts. It had all been rather . . . calm, not this mad dash, like they were running a race.

Indeed, Peter and Jack half-shoved each other as they ran down the stairs. "Ha! I beat you down!" Peter whooped, smacking his brother on the back of the head with his nightcap and then running over to the tree. "He came, Jack! Great golly whangers! Look at all the presents!"

Tom and Gingy whizzed by atop Puss, who looked rather frazzled. "Is there one for Gingy, Pete?" Tom cried.

"Probably. Santa wouldn't forget," Peter called back.

"Papa, hurry!" Nick shouted from the bottom stair.

Bae came out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand. "Give him a break, Nick," he scolded softly, poking the boy in the ribs. "The presents aren't going anywhere."

Rowan scampered across the hall, her ears perked, and trotted into the sitting room. Her nose led her unerringly to the guest sleeping on the sofa, who had been awakened by all the commotion, but had been lying quietly waiting for someone.

Until a hound's sticky tongue swiped across his whole face.

"Ugh! Rowan, _ath lerivae, merthal!_" Myrnin sputtered, shoving the hound's face away. (Rowan, quit licking, please!)

Rowan wagged her tail happily and barked, as if to say, "Look! Myrnin's here!"

Rafe turned to see why his dog was barking at the sofa and gasped. "Blessed gods of winter! What are _you_ doing here?"

Myrnin winked. "I'm supposed to be a present. Now shh!"

Rafe snapped his fingers at Rowan and she came to sit next to him.

Clary looked to see what the dog was barking about and started to run over to Myrnin, her mouth open to yell his name, when Bae grabbed her and covered her mouth with his hand. "Shh, Clary! It's a surprise, now be quiet till Ivy comes, okay?"

Clary nodded, and Bae took his hand away from her mouth.

"You didn't need to hold my mouth shut, Baelfire!" she snapped, glaring at him.

"Sorry, but you can't say anything about him just yet. You'll ruin the surprise," her brother told her.

"You're mean!" the little girl declared, crossing her arms over her chest.

Rumple and Snow finally reached the bottom of the staircase, along with the rest of the Gold children, except for Ivy.

Then they all waited impatiently for Belle to come down, which she did a few minutes later, with Ivy chatting to her about putting a pan of cinnamon buns she had in the spring house in the oven along with a sausage scramble casserole for breakfast.

"I hope someone made coffee," Aurora yawned. "Because I could use some."

"You always can," Elaina teased.

Rum gently helped Belle out of her chair and they stood at the back of the group of children and Rumple said, "Okay, everyone! No opening the presents until I say so. Rafe, you can hand them out, since you're closer to the tree than I am."

Rafe went over and began handing out presents, calling each child's name in a loud voice.

Each one got three presents—one from Santa, one from Belle and Rum, and one from Jeff and Alice.

Clary tugged on Ivy's nightgown. "Ivy, you only gots two presents. Where's your third one?"

Ivy glanced down at the two packages in her arms. One was a small square wrapped in red and green paper from Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice. The other was somewhat bigger, and it's tag read _to Ivy, Love, Mom and Papa_. She watched as all the presents beneath the tree were handed out, and still Rafe didn't give her another one from Santa. _Oh no! Maybe he forgot me,_ she thought, depressed. That had never happened before, but maybe he couldn't fulfill the wish she had asked for.

Clary tugged on her sleeve again. "Ivy, go in the sittin' room an' look on the sofa."

"What? Why?" she asked, puzzled.

"Just do it!" Clary ordered bossily. Bae had told her not to tell, but he'd never said she couldn't point Ivy in the direction of her surprise.

Ivy turned to go into the sitting room, feeling slightly depressed.

Until the green blanket wrapped figure on the sofa sat up and smiled at her. "Miss me, _a'liri_?"

Ivy screamed and ran forward. "Myrnin! You came! Santa didn't forget!" She threw her presents on the sofa and grabbed her errant half-elven beloved in an embrace so quickly that he almost didn't know what she was about.

Then his arms were about her and he was whispering, "I promised I'd come back, didn't I?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Stormshadow," she mock-growled.

He dipped his head and their mouths met, in one glorious kiss that banished the last of the weariness from him, and stole the ache from his heart that had lodged there ever since Puck had fetched him back to the Heart of the Wood.

Behind them, the children clapped and cheered. "Happy solstice, Myrnin!"

Then Elaina cried, "Now let's open the presents!"

Snow just stood there, her mouth hanging open, as a blizzard of wrapping paper swirled through the air, as each child tore into their presents like they were about to disappear. There was no order, no presentation of gifts, it was like chaos spawned in the foyer. Snow remained frozen, her hands clutching her three gifts, wondering if they had all gone mad.

"Go ahead, dearie!" Rumple encouraged, chuckling. "Open your gifts."

"I thought . . . I was supposed to wait . . ." Snow stammered, looking like a deer caught in a hunter's bow sights.

"The waiting's over, Snow. Go on, rip open those gifts!" Belle encouraged. "The chaos on solstice morning is half the fun!"

She carefully peeled off the paper on her largest gift, which was from Rumple and Belle. Beneath the silver gilt wrapping she found . . . "Oh! A bow! And a quiver with arrows!" she spun around, grinning. "How did you know I'd wanted to learn how to shoot?" She caressed the small yet strong recurved bow of yew, marked with a small snowflake burnt into the stave. The quiver had white fletched arrows in it, marked with another snowflake on the leather.

"Someone whispered that in my ear one day," Rumple smirked. "Happy solstice, Snow!"

She ran over and hugged them both. "Thank you! Now let me see what Santa gave me!" Her face flushed, she opened the prettily wrapped green and red striped package next. Inside a small wooden box was a necklace, a beautiful crystal snowflake on a glittering gold chain. With it was a note. Snow opened it and read it, happy tears falling down her face as she did so.

"What is it, child?" asked Belle, concerned.

"It's my mother's necklace!" Snow cried, holding the box out for Belle to see. "Santa left me a note telling me so. I thought my father . . . had sold all of her jewelry when she died . . ."

"More solstice magic," Rumple murmured.

"Come, let me put it on you," Belle said, taking the beautiful necklace from the box. She clasped it about Snow's neck, where it shone like a star. "It's beautiful, Snow. Just like her daughter."

Snow smiled and spun about, clasping the pendant and laughing while trying to wipe her eyes.

Meanwhile, chaos still reigned as the other children opened their gifts.

"Cool! Mom, I got some new sculpting clay from Santa!" Peter yelled, waving it above his head so they could see.

"Papa, Mom, look at this!" Jack cried and rushed over to show them his new set of sparkling silver spurs. "Like a real knight—only they have rounded points so I won't hurt Steady."

"That's great, Jack," Rum said, tousling his son's hair. "How did you like what we got you?"

"The saddle's great, Papa! And I like the crest on it too, like on my good shirt!" Jack said. "I can't wait to show Ray and ride Steady with it. Thanks!"

"Wow, Rafe, you got a new bow too!" Snow exclaimed as the young hunter unwrapped his present from Santa.

"Just what I wanted, because my old one was getting too small for me!" he examined his new bow, which was similar to Myrnin's, with pride. "Here, Rowan! Look what Santa brought you, you good dog!"

He handed his hound the large meaty bone with a green bow on it, first removing it. Rowan gently took the bone and went to lie on the hearth, next to Rajah, who was also eating his gift from Santa, along with Baron, who was sitting and dipping his paw into the jar of honey that had been left for him. Clary was feeding Sweetie her bottle, and the unicorn was sucking on it happily.

On the table, Puss was eating her mackerel happily, while Tom ripped the paper off his gifts. "Awesome! Santa gave me new paints, brushes, and picture frames. Now I can do family portraits."

"Oh, gods, please! I'm not doing that again!" Jeff groaned. "You can just pretend I'm there."

Alice poked him in the arm. "Don't be a spoilsport, Jeff!"

"What? I almost went nuts doing that for the big one," her fiancé said, pointing to the finished painting that Rembrandt had done, now hanging proudly in the foyer for everyone to see.

"Look what Santa brought me, Tom!" Gingy cried. "A horse!" Indeed, there stood a wooden horse, complete with a red saddle and bridle, on the table, just the size Gingy could ride on. The gingerbread boy leaped on top of it. "Yee-hah, Candy Cane! Away!"

And the horse galloped across the table, just like a real one.

"Aww! That's too cool!" Nick cried, watching. He had gotten some prime woodcarving tools as his solstice gift, as well as a small knife to skin game from his parents, similar to his brother Rafe's larger one.

Tom put his frame on the miniature easel his parents had gotten him and ran after Gingy, yelling, "When's my turn, huh?"

"Look at my sewing kit, Rennie!" Elaina cried, showing her the prettily embroidered sewing case filled with fine felts, ribbons, and pins and needles, all she needed to make trim for her hats. She was also wearing a fine cap of royal purple velvet with a silver rose in it from her parents. "What did Santa get you?"

"That's beautiful, Elaina!" her sister said, then pushed aside the wrapping paper to show her a beautiful hope chest of soft mahogany with two hearts with her and Bae's initials inside etched on the cover. "He brought me this! I can put all my linens and everything for my house in here for when I get married. I put the candlesticks Mom and Papa got me inside already!" She showed Elaina the pretty gold candlesticks inside the chest. "And Bae made me a pendant, see?" She tugged a beautifully carved goose wearing a sorcerer's hat on a black ribbon from under her nightgown. "It's us—the goose girl and the sorcerer's apprentice!"

Elaina laughed. "That sure is clever! Rafe gave me boots," she wriggled a foot, showing Rennie her fine leather boots, like moccasins. "So he can teach me how to walk in the woods with them. And I made him a vest."

"Rennie made me a quilt!" Bae said, as he unwrapped it.

"Yeah, for your marriage bed!" Aurora giggled.

Bae blushed. "Hey, I can't wait to see what Archie brings you, Rory!" He wriggled his eyebrows at her. His parents had given him a fine leather sheath for his elven sword and Santa a bottle of an expensive cologne called Bay Rum.

Aurora stuck her tongue out at him before running over to Rum. "Papa, see the new spinning wheel Santa brought me!"

"That's a fine wheel, my girl!" Rumple said, admiring it as it sat among all the crushed paper. "It'll spin those colored wool skeins excellently!"

"I know!" Aurora looked rapturous. "I can't wait to try it out, and make some new thread!" She kissed his cheek. "Thank you for the wool!"

"You're welcome, dearie," he said, then looked down as Phillip tugged on his sleeve. "And what did Santa bring you, Master Gold? Not a switch, I hope?"

"No way, Papa! I ain't naughty like Arachne!" Phillip said. "He brung me books! Look!" He grabbed a pile of four colorful books and shoved them at Rumple. "See? _Peter and the . . . um . . . Star . . . _what's that word, Papa?"

"What's it start with?" Rumple asked.

"C!"

"Good! Now sound it out. Come on, spelling bee champion."

Phillip frowned, then he said, "_C-Cat . . . chers. Catchers!_ It's _Peter and the Star Catchers_ series."

"Very good! Now we have a new story to read at bedtime," Rumple praised. "And they're long too."

"I know! Now I'm gonna play with my knights! Nick, let's play dragonslayers!" he yelled over to his brother.

Over on the other side of the tree, Belle was dazzled by the array of new things her daughters brought for her to see from Santa.

"Look at my new ballet shoes and costume, Mom!" Kristen said, twirling about with them. "I can't wait to show Ruby!"

"See my new journal with the peacock on it, Mom!" Nora said. "Now I can write down all the stories we tell each other." She waved it and some colorful ink and a big ostrich feather under Belle's nose.

"I got a songbook, Mom!" Ariel yelled, waving it about then singing a line from a song titled "Tale as Old as Time."

"Hey! Can I see?" asked Finn. "Put it here, Ari, on my new music stand," he encouraged, then they both looked at the music book, their heads together, humming the notes.

"Mom, look at my carpet!" Jasmine cried, showing her the lovely carpet woven in a colorful striped pattern. "It came all the way from Agrabah, my old kingdom, and Aladdin sent his solstice greeting to me with it!"

"Oh, Jasmine! That's lovely, and I'm glad to hear he's doing well," Belle told her.

"Papa! Look!" June said, tapping him on the arm.

"What is it, my will-o-wisp?" he asked softly, looking at the quiet child.

"Santa brought me magic bubbles," she showed him the bottle. "Watch what I can do!" She dipped the silver wand into the glistening solution and blew a large bubble, which she touched with her hand, making it glow like a star.

"How marvelous, Junie! Blow some more," he laughed, then set some glowing too, and they danced in the air like fireflies around the children's heads.

Belle smiled at her husband, who was playing with his shy daughter as if he were almost the same age, surrounded by blinking glowing bubbles. It was a wonderful sight.

"Mama! Lookit my new tea set Santa left for me!" Clary said. She was sitting at a brand new table with three chairs, Mopsy on her left and Chuckles on her right, with a gorgeous porcelain rose tea set on it, happily pouring out colored water and handing cups around to her stuffed animals.

"That's lovely, Clary. We'll have to make some cakes for it," Belle grinned.

On the sofa, Ivy and Myrnin cuddled together, Ivy wearing the new apron and showing Myrnin the new set of steak knives her parents had gotten for her. "Aren't they awesome?" she asked her boyfriend.

"Yeah, they're great for slicing and dicing . . . all those vegetables you're planning on making," he chuckled. "And I like the apron too."

Ivy blushed, for the apron said "Kiss the Cook". "Only you're allowed to follow that advice."

"Good," he smirked, then he did as the apron had said.

Jeff was watching the chaos and laughing. Then he said, "Hey! How'd you all like what I got you?"

"What is it, Uncle Jeff?" asked Nick. "It looks like a spring," he held up his, which dangled from his hand like a piece of coiled wire.

"Okay, let me explain. You all know how I can realms-walk with my hat, right?"

"Yeah!"

"So I decided to get you something different for your solstice gift this year. I used my hat to go into this world where they had a huge building filled with toys, stuff you wouldn't believe. It had this sign on it called Wal-Mart, I guess that's what they called it. I didn't know what to look at first. Then this man comes up to me and he says, "Hey, sir, are you looking for the perfect gift?" and I tell him, "I've got nineteen kids to buy for, can you help me out?" and he smiles and shows me this huge box of these things called _slinkies_. He said that children there love them and he needed to sell them so he could feed his family. So I gave him twenty gold pieces for the lot and that's what these are. Let me show you how these work," He took Clary's slinky and showed the children how to walk it down the stairs, and race it, and curl it around your arm and make it "jump" across the floor.

"Awesome! Let's have a race, guys!" Nick cried, and Jack, Pete, Bae, and Rafe went upstairs with him and raced their slinkies, which were all different colors, down the staircase, screaming and yelling as one overtook the others.

Puss swatted Snow's across the floor, making them laugh when her paw got trapped in a coil and Jasmine had to remove it for her.

"Are they magic, Jeff?" asked Alice, as a slinky crawled across the table.

"Nope. I don't think so."

"They aren't," Rumple said, cupping one in his hand. "They're made of some kind of odd metal, but it's not magical."

"Who cares?" Tom giggled, jumping Candy Cane over his. "They're really fun!"

"What do you say to Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice, kids?" Belle reminded.

"Thank you!" they chorused.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Ivy managed to tear herself from Myrnin long enough to put her cinnamon buns and casserole in the oven, and the kids and adults all had a piece inbetween playing with their new gifts and helping to clean up the floor of wrapping paper.

It was while they were doing that, that Rennie found two small gifts and brought them over to Belle and Rumple. "Look at this! I found these when I started cleaning up, Mom. They're presents from Santa too."

"For who, Rennie?" asked Belle, puzzled.

"The twins! See, it says, _for Rum and Belle's babies, don't open till after they're born _and one is labeled_ Twin A _and one is_ Twin B_," her daughter said, handing them the small boxes.

"Oh! It's because he knows, Rum!" Belle said, her blue eyes shining.

"Well, he would if anyone did, dearie!" Rumple smiled.

"Knows what, Papa?" Rennie queried.

"What they are," he answered. "Let me put these up in the chest with the other baby things. We'll open them when they have their christening."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The day passed quickly, with everyone trying on or using their gifts. Ivy and Rennie got together the big meal in the afternoon. To their shock, Myrnin assisted them, saying he'd had to learn to cook well in the field for his company. "Otherwise I'd end up sicker than a dog, so I can make a few things, like rosemary flatbread stuffed with bacon and wild onions and cheese, or pancakes with honey."

"Good! You do that flatbread thing while I put the pheasants in the oven, along with the ham," Ivy directed. "Boy, was I clever to get a boyfriend who can do more than eat food!"

"You sure were!" Myrnin agreed, then he started mixing up the ingredients in a bowl.

For guests that afternoon for dinner, besides the family, they had Granny, Ruby, Merrin, Chantel, Ray, Archie, Miss Bea and Charming. Everyone arrived around four o'clock, and started eating the appetizers, like Myrnin's stuffed flatbread, Ivy's rice balls, and Rennie's puff pastry bites sprinkled with sugar.

"Happy solstice, Ray!" Jack said, showing his friend the silver spurs.

"Santa brought me a new racing bridle," his friend said. "Because he knew Father was giving me Sunny for my own for a solstice gift this year." Then he handed Jack a bag. "Oh, almost forgot. Here's your present from me."

Jack went and got the present he'd made for Ray. "Thanks! Here's mine for you."

They opened them at almost the same time.

"These racing silks are wicked, Jack!" Ray said, looking at the blue and gold silks with his family crest—a leaping unicorn—on it.

"My papa helped me make them. I figured you could use them if you raced Sunny or Angel again." He held up his new bridle. "Thanks, Ray! This'll go great with my new saddle. Steady's gonna love it. Hey, let's go feed the horses their treats from Santa."

They ran out the back door with the carrots and apples for the horses.

Granny hugged her new cashmere shawl, which was a bright pink color, and thanked Rumple and Belle for it. "This is your work, right, master spinner?"

He nodded. "I wove the cloth, and Belle and I both worked on the embroidery."

The shawl had her initials on it and a sprig of hawthorn and holly.

"I hope you like my holiday nut bread."

"We'll love it," Belle assured her.

"Thank you for our gift basket," Chantel said graciously, she was a tall woman of about thirty with long blond hair, just barely starting to show her own pregnancy.

"Thank you for the lovely table cloth," Belle smiled back. "It's going on the table right now."

Further away, Ruby squealed over her new red shoes, given to her by Kristen. "Tap shoes! Now we can dance together, Kris!"

"Uh huh! And you can teach me how to twirl my new baton!" Kristen grinned.

"Sure! Watch this!"

As she demonstrated that, Archie shyly presented Rory with his gift to her. "I hope, you . . . uh . . . like it."

"A music box!" she cried. "And it plays my favorite song—the Fairy Waltz! Thanks so much!" Then she kissed him, making him blush almost as red as his hair and the new cap and scarf she'd made him.

"I also have some news for you," he whispered. "While I was over at the Goose, getting my pay for the week, I heard the most awful ruckus coming from the Millers, because it's just across the street."

"A ruckus? When?"

"In the morning. I went over right after I opened my gift from Santa. He gave me a set of encyclopedias. Anyway, I was coming out of the tavern when I heard some of the Millers whining about getting nothing from Santa but coal and then I heard Arachne screaming because . . . well . . . there was a willow switch in _her_ stocking and it was . . . umm . . .spanking the daylights out of her. And Missus Miller was yelling, "Rufus, make it stop!" and he was saying, "Just leave it, Margie! It's what she deserves, y'know!" and I almost fell over when I heard that!"

"He really said that?" Aurora gasped.

"Uh huh. Shocked the blazes out of me. I guess he realizes now that she needs some discipline after all," Archie said. "And it's about time!"

The Shepherds were the last to arrive, with Mistress Bea bearing some lovely apricot cookies and ginger cake. "Happy solstice, Rum and Belle!" she cried, hugging and kissing everyone.

"For you, Bea!" Belle said, and handed her a large basket.

"What's this?" she asked, then she clapped her hands when she opened it. "Oh! Books! My very own collection!"

"Now you have a library of your own, Mom," laughed Charming. "Hey, Mary Margaret! Come here for a minute!"

Snow dropped the napkins she was putting at the place settings on the dining room table and ran over to kiss and hug James. "Happy solstice, Charming!" She draped a beautiful blue velvet cloak about his shoulders. "So you don't freeze watching your sheep, shepherd prince."

"I love it!" he said, kissing her. "Hope you like mine!" he handed her a wooden box.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Open it and find out, silly!"

Snow pried off the lid . . . and a black puppy with a white star on its forehead jumped up and licked her face. "A puppy! For me?"

Charming laughed. "He's Dusty and Ranger's pup, the best of the litter."

Snow was giggling as the puppy washed her face. "I love him! He's so sweet, Charming! I've never had a pet before." She hugged the squirming ball of fur to her.

"Aww! How cute!" Belle exclaimed.

"What are you going to name him, dearie?" asked Rumple.

"Umm . . . I think I'll call him . . . Polaris, because of the star on his head. And whenever I want Charming to come over, I'll send him to the Shepherds."

"And I'll always be able to find you," Charming said, petting the puppy and getting his fingers licked. "Good dog, Polaris!"

Then Ivy said, "Okay, let's eat!"

And everyone filed into the dining room for the huge solstice feast. There was roasted pheasants with gravy, ham with pineapple, mashed potatoes, sausage bread, creamed corn, broiled asparagus, buttery shrimp, pasta with carbonara sauce, stuffed mushrooms, and broccoli with cheese. Everyone ate until they were stuffed, and then they drank toasts to each other with Galadriel Golden wine and sparkling white grape juice.

Rumple helped clean up with magic, so dessert was put on the table, along with eggnog, peppermint cocoa, and coffee. Dessert consisted of apple pie, mincemeat pie, a chocolate cake, walnut bread, dozens of cookies, including Miss Bea's, and fried donuts drizzled with caramel sauce.

They all agreed this was the best solstice dinner ever, because it was spent in the company of family, friends, and neighbors.

The heavens seemed to agree as well, for soon a light snow was falling, making everything pristine and white, like a greeting card.

Soon the children were running and laughing in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other and making snow angels, while Polaris and Rowan played tug-o-war with Snow's scarf.

Little did they know, however, that this was the calm before the storm.

**A/N: Okay, this was the last holiday chapter, hope you all liked! And now . . . things are going to heat up in the next chapter . . . as Regina figures out something important. And just so you know, their dinner in this chapter was based off of my own Christmas dinner-yeah, we really are that nuts about food, LOL! It's an Italian thing.**


	54. Gold Forevermore

**54**

**Gold Forevermore**

The day after the Winter Solstice, Rumple and Belle had all the children gather up all of the clothes and toys they had outgrown or no longer wanted and made up several baskets to give as donations to the poorer families in Valley Way. Inside each basket was also a spool of gold thread, so the family could purchase other things they needed. Belle recalled getting a few of those baskets when she lived with Miranda, as the orphans always were in need of clothes, shoes, and books. Rumple, who had grown up poorer than dirt, as he put it, never neglected to recall those families who struggled, especially during the winter, and had always given solstice donations to the village, even when he'd been the Dark One, though back then Ivy and Bae had made up the baskets, and they hadn't contained a fifth of what they did now.

They loaded all the baskets into the wagon and had Flicker pull it down to the village, where they gave them to Geppetto and Magistrate Henry, who placed them on the courthouse steps and had a lottery of all the needy families, and they drew out one name for each basket and delivered it to them that afternoon.

While the adults were doing that, Phillip found Pinocchio and gave him the solstice gift he had for his friend, which was a wooden sword, much like the one Bae had made for him on his birthday. Pinocchio gave Phillip a new marionette Geppetto had made, it was a knight, and could "walk" and "fight" when someone pulled certain strings. The boys had a great time playing with the puppet and staging mock swordfights on the side of the courthouse while their parents talked inside.

Aurora and Archie walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, stopping to chat with Mistress Pearson and Molly, and also Annie and her elder daughter, Priscilla. Finn, Ariel, Ruby, and Kristen decided to go caroling, singing some of the new songs from Ariel's songbook, and they went door to door singing them, and received cups of hot cocoa and peppermint sticks or cinnamon coffee and small solstice buns in response for their hard work.

Up at the castle, Myrnin and Ivy baked small loaves of date walnut bread together, drenching the tops with small glasses of rum given to them by Alice, and let them sit while they went outside to sit in the arbor and talk.

Ivy wanted to know everything that had happened to Myrnin since he'd been called away to help his people. At first Myrnin was reluctant to tell her, but in the end she wheedled it out of him, even the part he was ashamed of—the nightmares and his sudden uncontrolled outbursts of magic when he was awakened suddenly.

"I almost fried your papa the first night I was here," he admitted, not looking her in the eye. "He woke me up after I'd fallen asleep while I was . . . uh . . . taking a bath and I . . . attacked him. I thought . . . just for a moment . . . he was an enemy and I just . . . reacted."

"Oh, Myrnin, that's terrible!" Ivy exclaimed.

"I know. I would never hurt him, but . . . I can't seem to help myself, Ivy. I told Rum he ought to bind me again with those . . . those Manacles of Suppression I think you called them . . .?"

Ivy gasped. "No! Myrnin, the manacles are dangerous . . . Papa only uses them on enemies, if they're left on too long they can really injure a magician's ability to cast."

"He wouldn't do it, Ivy."

"Good. I'm glad. Myrnin, you're sick from the war, that's all. You'll get better, now that you're away from it."

"But for how long, Ivy?" he sighed. "I can only stay till the end of the holiday, after the turning of the year I have to go back. My people are still at war, and they . . . need me . . ."

Ivy sighed. "I wish you didn't have to go back. I wish you could just . . . stay here with us."

He stroked her cheek. "Believe me, _a'liri_, if I could, I do it in a heartbeat. Now that Arion's back in command, maybe I'll have more time to visit. He knows where I am, and I trust him not tell my father."

"If your father knew . . . what would he do?"

Myrnin sighed. "I really don't know. But it wouldn't be pleasant. He's forbidden any of us to have contact with humans unless it's a matter of life and death. He knows that I received help from a human family after I was injured a few months ago, but he wasn't at all happy about it."

"Would he preferred you have died?" she asked tartly.

"No . . . he doesn't hate me that much. But he doesn't like owing humans anything, and saving me placed him in your debt. He's probably going to send something to your father soon, a token of his gratitude. But that doesn't mean he'd let me have anything to do with you, Ivy. He'd have a fit if he knew where I was and who I was with."

"Do you care?"

"Once . . . I might have. Now . . . I don't give a damn. He can make all the rules and edicts he wants and I won't follow them if I can help it. His stupid pride got us into this whole mess with my dark kin, he thought he could make peace with the _dwarrow_, but all he did was stir them to vengeance and hatred. Now they think we're vulnerable and they're trying to annihilate us."

"But they're not succeeding, are they?"

"No. They don't have the numbers to truly harm us, anymore than we do them. Like always, we're fighting to a stalemate. I tried to convince my father to ask Rum to help him out, but he refuses. He thinks this war is only _il'Shennara_ business and humans should stay out of it. He's a fool. With a sorcerer like your father, the war would be over in a few days, and the night elves would be hiding in a hole wetting themselves in fear and not come out until a new century had spawned. But it's no use talking to him, he never listens to me."

"He sounds like a stubborn idiot," Ivy snorted.

"You can say that again. Let's not talk about this anymore, Ivy. The war is far from here now, and I just want to have some peace and quiet. All right?"

"Of course. How about we have some bread and cheese and some sparkling cider for a snack? Then we can wrap up the bread we made and start thinking about what to cook for lunch."

"That sounds great to me. Lately I feel like I'm always starving."

"Maybe you're going to grow some," Ivy speculated. "Papa always says that growth spurts are accompanied by sudden spates of hunger."

"Could be. I'm shorter than most of my people," Myrnin mused. Then he moved to get the bread and cheese from the pantry, and Ivy opened a bottle of cider.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

After they had donated the baskets, Rumple treated Belle to a crumb cake at Mistress Pelham's bakery. As they were eating the delicious cake along with some cinnamon flavored coffee, Geppetto came in and said, "Rum, I almost forgot. This came yesterday, but with all the excitement over the solstice, I almost didn't remember it until now." He handed the sorcerer a large creamy white envelope bearing the seal of the Golden Fleece, which was the official seal of the king's city, since King Jason was the Keeper of the Fleece, and had been since he had journeyed for it long ago, fighting dragon soldiers and monsters and a wicked enchantress to rescue it and bring it back to his uncle, who had then ruled this kingdom. It was how he had won his right to become heir to his uncle's throne and since then the Fleece was Attica's royal symbol.

"Thank you, Geppetto," Rum said.

The woodcarver nodded and then left them alone, saying he would take Pinocchio and Phillip back to his cottage for some biscotti and tea.

"Rum! Is it . . .?" Belle asked eagerly, as she saw the envelope.

"Let's open it and find out," her husband said, and gently lifted the seal with the tip of his eating knife.

He slid the paper within out of the envelope and opened it. A smile creased his face. "They're here, Belle! The adoption papers are approved and now we just need to file them with Magistrate Henry and set a date for our official appearance in court."

Belle was grinning from ear to ear. "Rum, can we do it today? File them, I mean?"

"Yes. I'll speak with Henry after we finish eating and hopefully we can set a date as soon as possible. It'll be the last solstice gift I'll give the children before the new year . . . and the most important one, I think."

Belle sipped her mug of coffee and thought about finally having her family officially under one name at last. Then there would be no more confusion about who belonged where and what they were called. They would all be Golds, children of Rumplestiltskin and Belle, and her family would be complete.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle was resting with her feet on Rum's lap in the sitting room after lunch, reading some of the herbal remedies book Archie had bought her for her birthday. Rumple had spoken to the magistrate and had set a court date for just before the new year, and the end of the solstice celebration. They hadn't told the children yet, figuring to wait and have it be a surprise.

Rumple was reading some of his new potions books, when he felt something tug on one of his boots. When he looked down, he saw Polaris trying to chew his left boot, pulling on one of the laces. "Hey, puppy! That's not something you should be chewing on," he scolded, leaning down and gently removing the puppy's jaws from the leather. He tapped the pup's nose and said sternly, "No, Polaris! No chewing!"

The collie-shepherd mix whimpered and gave Rumple a confused look. Then he tried to nip the sorcerer's fingers.

"No!" Rum scolded, giving the little dog another tap on the nose. "Here. Chew this." He summoned a worn bone of Rowan's and gave it to the puppy.

Polaris sniffed it, then he pounced on it, gnawing it and growling softly.

"Good boy!" Rumple praised, ruffling the dog's ears, which were flopped over, though when he was older, they could stand up like his sire's.

With the puppy happily occupied, Rum turned back to his book. But he had only read a page before being interrupted again, this time by Phillip and Clary, who came into the sitting room and were giving Belle an odd look . . almost disapproving.

"Mama, we need to ask you something," Clary said.

Belle looked up from her book. "Yes? What is it, Clary?" Then she coughed. "Rum, would you mind getting me something to drink? My throat is dry all of a sudden."

"I'll bring you some milk and honey," he said, gently removing his wife's feet from his lap and setting them on the sofa as he stood up. He placed his book on the small table to the side of the sofa, safely out of reach of teething puppies. Then he walked out of the sitting room and into the kitchen.

As soon as he had left, Phillip said, "Mom . . . you know how Santa comes to the castle the night before solstice morning and leaves us all gifts under the tree?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Uh . . . well . . . Clary and I . . . well . . . we wanted to see what he looked like . . . so we . . . uh . . . snuck downstairs and hid behind the sofa . . .

"—and we saw you _kiss_ Santa, Mama! On the mouth!" Clary finished.

Belle's eyes widened. She caught herself before she started laughing. _Oh, no! They saw me kissing Rum dressed up as Santa! It must have been just before they fell asleep. Now how do I explain this? _

"Yeah, Mom!" Phillip said, looking indignant. "How come you were kissing Santa? I thought you was only supposed to kiss Papa like that!"

Belle bit her lip, thinking frantically. How could she explain to the two precocious  
children that they had seen her kissing their father and not Santa without ruining their whole outlook on the solstice holiday? She glanced around for Rumple, who should have been back by now with her milk. Maybe he could come up with a good enough excuse.

She spotted her husband then, standing just in the doorway of the sitting room, a glass of milk clutched in his hand, smirking like ten imps. She jerked her head at him, trying to tell him without words to get over here and help her.

"You don't want to marry Santa, right, Mom?" Phillip asked then.

"N-No! Of course not, Phil!" Belle stammered.

In the doorway, Rumple clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with silent amusement. He ducked back into the kitchen, setting the glass of milk on the table before doubling over, laughing hysterically. _Oh, gods, Belle! They saw us!_

Belle glared angrily at the now empty doorway. _Damn you, Rumple!_ She blushed faintly then turned back to her offspring. "I'm married to your papa, Phillip, and I don't need another man in my life."

"Then why did you kiss him, Mom?" her son demanded.

"Was it 'cause you was teaching him how to do it?" Clary queried artlessly.

"Um . . . well . . . sort of . . ." Belle floundered, trying to come up with a good excuse.

In the kitchen, Rumple was nearly prostrate with laughter, wondering how his wife was going to explain _that_ little incident. He knew he should be in there trying to help, but he was laughing so hard he couldn't even walk.

"How come he doesn't know how?" Phillip wanted to know.

"He's never been married b'fore, Phil!" Clary announced.

"Umm . . . yes, that's true, Clary, but . . . we were . . . umm . . . exchanging a kiss because of an old custom," Belle said, finally getting her wits back. "The first one to see Santa when he comes down the chimney has to . . . err . . . give him a kiss of peace and welcome. So, since I was the first one to see him, that's what I did."

Phillip still scowled a little. "But Mom! You were kissing him an awful _long_ time!"

Belle felt her cheeks go red, and inwardly she cursed both her son's perceptiveness and her husband's sudden absence. _Rumple, get your ass over here and help me!_

Rumplestiltskin was gasping for breath after hearing that last statement, his eyes glistening with tears of mirth, snickering into his handkerchief at the way the two were grilling Belle over a simple kiss. He had intended to come in there, he really had, but he couldn't control himself, and it wouldn't do to let the children see him laughing his ass off over what should be an upsetting incident.

"It only seemed that way, Phillip," Belle said quickly. "It was over in two seconds."

"It didn't seem like that," her son said.

"You were tired, so it seemed longer," his mother improvised, wishing for once that she didn't have such curious and perceptive children.

"Was it like kissing Papa?" Clary wanted to know.

Belle shook her head, biting her cheek hard.

"Clary! Of course not! Papa's her _husband,_ Santa's just an old fat man in a red suit!" Phillip snapped.

Belle started coughing, trying to smother her laughter.

_That_ comment had Rumple laughing so hard he nearly died right there at the table.

"So?" Clary demanded.

"So, the best kisses are when you love someone," Phillip informed her. "Right, Mom?"

"Y-yes, Phillip, that's exactly right," Belle managed to say. "What's taking your father so long?" she asked loudly.

Rumple was trying to compose himself, but failing miserably.

"Want me to see?" asked Clary.

"Please do," Belle said.

"Papa, where are you?" she called. "Mama's thirsty!"

"I'll . . . be right there . . . Clary," Rumple gasped. "I . . . couldn't find the honey."

"It's on the third shelf in the pantry," Clary called back.

"Yes . . . I . . . know that," her father replied. "I'm coming, Belle."

_Oh, **now** he's coming! _she thought indignantly.

"So then it wasn't a real kiss, just for pretend?" Phillip asked.

"It was a welcome kiss, because Santa only comes once a year," his mother told him firmly. "That's all."

"Okay. I was just making sure," her son sighed.

"Told you so!" Clary declared triumphantly. "Santa's gonna marry Granny and he needed the practice."

Belle lost it then and started laughing.

Rumple almost dropped the glass of milk and honey on the floor upon hearing that bit of wisdom. He managed to levitate the glass before he leaned against the doorjamb, laughing helplessly.

"What's so funny?" Clary looked at her brother.

Phillip shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe Santa's too old for Granny."

"No, he's not! They're both old!"

"Clary, dearie . . . where did you get the idea that . . . Santa was marrying Granny?" asked Rumple, straightening up and wiping his eyes.

"Phillip said he needed a wife, and Granny's the only old woman I know who's nice enough to marry him," his daughter answered.

"Oh. I see. That's very clever of you, snippet," Belle said then. She shot a glare at Rumple.

He brought her the glass of milk, giving her a contrite look over the top of it. "Sorry," he muttered. Then he said, "Phillip, why don't you and Clary go and make a snowman? We need one in the front yard."

"Okay!" the little girl said. "Come on, Phil! Let's go build a snowman!"

"I'll get some spare buttons for the eyes and a carrot," her brother said.

"And don't forget your cloaks, scarves, and mittens," Belle reminded them as they ran from the room. Then she turned to her husband and snapped, "And just where the hell were _you_, Rumplestiltskin? I could have used your help, you know!"

"Umm . . ." was all he said, looking as guilty as a boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar before dinner.

"You wretch!" she shook a finger at him. "I'll bet you were laughing your ass off in there."

"I . . . couldn't help it!"

"I ought to make you sleep out here on the sofa," she threatened.

"Hey . . . let's not get vindictive, dearie. I never expected to be spied upon in my own castle on solstice eve. Especially not by those two. And you could have waited, you know."

"Oh, shut up, Rumple!" she mock-growled. She sipped her milk. "Now get over here and massage my feet."

"Yes, dear," he said, pretending meekness. Then he sat down beside her, taking her foot in his lap, and saying slyly, "Do I get a kiss afterwards?"

Belle took the pillow from behind her and smacked him in the head.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

In the last week of the solstice holiday, which led up to the turning of the year, the children busied themselves skating, having snowball fights, riding, and in the case of Snow, learning how to shoot her bow from both Rafe and Myrnin. Since both of them were experts, they'd both volunteered to teach her, and had been pleasantly shocked to find that the girl had almost as deadly an aim as they did, having inherited an archer's eye.

Charming came over as well, and was receiving sword lessons from Alice and Jeff, who were also teaching him, Bae, Jack, and Ray how to fight monsters. Rumple and Myrnin had cast several illusionary beasts, like an ogre, a giant, a manticore, a chimera, and a dragon in the yard. Depending on what one they were fighting that afternoon, Jeff and Alice would show them several techniques on how to render it harmless or to kill it.

Sometimes Rafe, Snow, and Myrnin joined them as well, using their archery skills or in the half-elf's case, his magic, to bring down the illusionary foes. It was then that Myrnin demonstrated the combat magic he had learned fighting his dark cousins, shocking the boots off of both mercenaries with his reactions and sheer power.

"Gods, boy, you're almost as strong as Rum!" Jeff exclaimed one day after watching the slender youth kill the ogre with a simple flick of one hand and a ball of power that ignited the eight foot monster on contact, and then turn and tear apart the flying dragon with a storm of hailstones as big as a man's head, sending the dragon crashing into the ground, where it flickered and vanished.

"And you're wicked fast too," Alice whistled.

Myrnin shrugged. "I have to be. The night elves are good at sneak attacks, and also getting off that last death spell before going to the afterworld. So I have to make sure one strike destroys them and whatever they send after me or else I'd be joining them."

"Let me try something," Alice said, eyeing the young sorcerer thoughtfully. There were four illusionary monsters remaining—the manticore, the giant, a wyvern, and a troll. "How are you at handling multiple attacks all at once?"

"Not bad," Myrnin answered.

"Let's find out," she said, and clapped her hands three times, signaling the monsters to spring at the slender half-elf.

"Alice! Even he can't fight off so many!" Jeff protested. "He's going to get his ass kicked."

All of them converged upon him in a snarling, snapping whirlwind of teeth, claws, fire, and weapons, and Myrnin shielded himself. The pack of monsters struck the shield and were repelled.

Jeff, Alice, and the other children watched in amazement from a safe distance across the yard, sure that Myrnin was going to be toast.

As the monsters attempted to tear down the glowing blue dome of magic surrounding him, the youth lowered his head and concentrated.

The shield surrounding him expanded . . . then erupted in a soundless wall of blue power that smashed into all the monsters, incinerating those closest to him and shredding the others like paper.

When the light died and the dust settled, Myrnin stood unharmed, flickers of blue fire still curling in the air about him. "How was that, Jeff?"

"Holy _shit_, kid!" Alice gasped.

Jeff found his voice at last. "Blessed gods and hells, boy! You just wrecked four of the worst bunch of monsters in the realms and you didn't even break a sweat. You're not feeling sick are you? Or like you're going to collapse?"

Myrnin shook his head. "No. They were only illusions, Jeff. I tapped into the earth for some of my power, so I didn't use much of my reserves. That's a trick I learned from some other combat mages in the kingsguard."

"Even so, you've got some blasted power, kid. I've only known one other magician who can command more magic in one shot than you, and he's the master of this castle," Alice said.

"I'm nowhere near Rum's level yet, Alice," Myrnin said. "If I ever am."

"But you're pretty damn close, kid," she whistled. "And that's saying something."

"Okay, let's all take a break," Jeff said. "I think we all need some hot baths and some lunch."

His statement was met with whoops and cheers as they all filed back into the castle. Myrnin trailed them, thinking sadly that it was easy to kill with his power, and while he didn't regret in the slightest killing the _dwarrow_, he'd much rather use his magic to renew, build, and heal, skills which Rumple had been showing him earlier in the week. _That_, he thought, was a true test of a magician's power, and something he had yet to master.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Early on the morning before new year's eve, Belle and Rumple woke all the children and told them to dress in their good clothing and get ready to go to Valley Way for a meeting at the courthouse with Magistrate Henry.

"What for, Mom?" asked Rafe.

"Yeah, why do we have to get up so blasted early?" groaned Elaina, who enjoyed sleeping in some mornings.

"Are we going to a wedding?" Clary asked her father, rubbing her eyes.

"You'll see, snippet. Now go wash your face and get into your fancy party dress," he told her.

Mystified, all the children did as they were told.

Most of them rode in the wagon down to the village, pulled by Flicker, though Jack rode Steady and Rum rode Rogue, with Phillip seated just before him on the mare. Jeff accompanied them on Deuce, as did Alice, riding her gray horse, Ironheart.

They all processed into the courthouse, which was empty save for the magistrate sitting up at his bench, wearing his official black judicial robes. "Ah, right on time, Archmagus Gold," he declared pleasantly, shuffling the papers on his bench.

"Good morning, Magistrate Henry," Rumple said, taking Belle's arm and walking up to the front where the witnesses usually stood. "As you can see, all of our children are present, and so are two witnesses, as you requested."

"What's going on?" Nick asked, nudging Peter, who shrugged and said, "How should I know?"

"Children, we'd like you to line up in order, from oldest to youngest," Belle said. As the children got in line, she said, "You too, Snow."

Snow came to stand next to Bae and Rennie, puzzled.

Jeff, Alice, and Myrnin stood off to one side, next to Belle and Rumple.

When everyone was lined up, Magistrate Henry cleared his throat and said, "I would like to wish all of you a good morning, and to tell you that you're here today to finalize a procedure that your father, Archmagus Gold, started back in September. Today, in sight of these witnesses, I shall require you to sign your name to a single document, if you consent, of your own free will, to be adopted by the said sorcerer and his wife, Lady Belle Avonlea Gold, and to take the name Gold henceforth and forevermore. Some of you already bear that name, in that case, you are signing your favor to be adopted by Lady Belle. When I call your name, please approach the bench and take up the pen here and sign your consent on the line provided."

Grins and gasps followed that statement. Snow almost fainted.

Magistrate Henry calmly placed an inkwell next to his raven feather quill and the parchment certificate of adoption in front of him, and called, "Baelfire Gold, sign your consent."

Bae walked forward, took up the quill, and signed his name with a flourish.

Then he walked back to stand next to Rennie.

"Serenity Emilie Avonlea, step forward."

Rennie did so, and as she signed her name, Magistrate Henry said, "From this moment on, you are now Serenity Emilie Gold."

Beaming, she walked back and hugged Bae.

Snow was next, and she feared she was going to fall over, she was so shocked. She almost couldn't believe this was happening. The Golds had given her so much, but she had never expected them to go this far. She glanced over at Belle and Rumple, and Belle smiled and nodded. Rumple did as well, and gestured towards the bench.

"Snow White Broceliande, step forward."

Snow felt tears prickle her eyes as she walked up and lifted the quill. As she signed her name, she felt something she had not since her father had breathed his last on a sunny morning. She felt as though she belonged, and that she had come home at last.

"From this moment hence, you are Snow White Gold."

She walked back to stand next to Rennie in a daze, and Rennie hugged her and whispered, "Welcome to the family, little sister!" For she was older than Snow by a few months.

"Raphael Edward Avonlea, come forward."

Rafe walked over, picked up the pen, and signed, thinking as he did so that his last tie to his wastrel father was severed. He looked over at his parents and smiled as the magistrate said, "Henceforth, you are now Raphael Edward Gold."

And so it went, from oldest to youngest, though Tom used his own quill to sign his name, all the way down to the last.

"Phillip Maurice Avonlea, come forward."

Phillip did so, though he had to stand on a chair to reach the top of the bench and sign his name.

Magistrate Henry winked at him, then said, "You are Phillip Maurice Gold forevermore."

Phillip jumped down off the chair and cried, "I'm legal now, Papa!"

Everyone laughed.

Last but not least, it was Clary's turn.

She climbed up on the chair and the magistrate smiled and said, "Can you write your name for me, sweetheart, here next to your brother Phillip's?"

Clary nodded. "Uh huh. Papa taught me." She picked up the quill, which the magistrate had already dipped in the ink. "But I write better in crayon."

The magistrate chuckled as she wrote carefully _Clarissa Gold._

Once she had run back to stand next to Phillip, Magistrate Henry said, "With the power vested in me as an official of Attica, by the grace of His Majesty, Jason, King of the realm, I now sign this document and make this adoption legal and lawfully binding." He then signed his name at the bottom. Then he rose and bowed to Rumplestiltskin and Belle. "Archmagus Gold, Lady Belle, I give you—your children!"

Jeff, Alice, and Myrnin started applauding loudly as the children rushed forward to hug and kiss Belle and Rumple.

Bae nearly liften Belle off the ground with his hug, saying, "All of us voted unanimously to accept you as our mother, and good riddance to my old one, Mom!"

Belle dashed tears from her eyes and hugged him back. "She never deserved you, Bae. And I'm proud to call you my son."

Beside her, Rumple was receiving a similar hug from Rafe, who said, "Finally I have a name I can be proud of again. And a father. Thank you, Papa."

Rumple hugged his son hard, blinking back tears of joy. "No, thank _you_, Rafe. For taking a chance to trust me. You'll do the Gold name proud, lad."

"Yeah, well, I'll try," Rafe said, stepping back and wiping his eyes. "Damn dust!"

He looked over at Bae, who gave a nod, then at Finn, Jeff, and Myrnin also.

At that silent signal, they picked up Rumple and carried him out of the courthouse on their shoulders, with Belle floating along next to him, with all the children singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" and then "Hail to the Queen".

As they emerged from the courthouse, with their parents on their shoulders, Rufus Miller walked by and stared at them. "What in the world's happening now?"

"We've just gotten adopted, Master Miller!" Phillip yelled joyously. "And we're celebrating."

"Oh. For a minute there I thought it was arrested. Congratulations! And the gods help you, Gold!" Then he bowed and continued on down the street.

The children all cheered, and then they carefully set their parents down on the wagon seat, giving them a salute as they did so.

Belle squeezed Rum's hand in her own. "Finally, Rum! Now we're all a family."

Rumplestiltskin grinned. "We truly are. They're not yours or mine any longer, but _ours_. Now let's get home, we skipped breakfast, and I'm starving."

**A/N: Well, I was going to have regina in this chapter, but then I realized I needed this to happen first. So she'll be back in the next one. Hope you all liked!**


	55. Regina's Ultimatum

**55**

**Regina's Ultimatum**

On the way home, Snow asked Rumple a question that she had been wondering since she had signed her consent to the adoption that had taken place. "Rum—I mean, Papa," she began, her eyes glowing. "How did you manage to work me into your adoption plans?"

"Snow, you can still call me Rum if you feel more comfortable—" he began.

The dark-haired girl shook her head. "No. Legally I'm your daughter now, and I was taught to show respect to my elders, and you've been more of father to me than Regina has ever been a mother, so it's only right I call you papa now. And the same is true for you, Belle."

"Thank you, Snow," Belle said softly. She wiped a tear from her eye. She was still very emotional over the adoption, though some of it could be laid at the altar of pregnancy, for her emotions tended to run away with her sometimes.

"You're welcome, Mama," the girl said, and smiled as she said it. "I like calling you that. It feels so much better than calling Regina that. Because you love me more than she ever did." Then she turned back to Rumple. "So, Papa, how did you do it? Manage to adopt me legally? Because I know that Regina, even though she is only my stepmother, was legally regent of the Enchanted Forest until I came of age, and therefore legally my guardian, though she never adopted me."

Rumple patted her cheek and said, "Well, dearie, I pulled some strings. A long time ago, before I first moved into the Dark Castle, I brokered a peace treaty between the ogres and humans and ended forever the Ogre Wars. Those wars cost hundreds of thousands their lives, men, women, and children, and the peace I made between ogres and what was then the kingdom of Jason's uncle, Aegeus, is still in effect today. Yet the only noble even willing to honor me for doing that was Jason. When he took over his uncle's throne, he came to me, even though I was the Dark One, and told me that he wished to acknowledge the deed I had done in ending the Ogre Wars. He then told me that as long as I remained in Attica, he would never tax me like his other subjects, or force me to swear fealty to him, I was basically a free subject, and that if ever I needed it, he would grant me a favor. It's how I grew rich rather quickly, you see."

"What about the favor, Papa?" asked Snow.

"I never used it. Until the day I wrote your name on the adoption papers and sent them to the king's city. I explained in a letter to Jason who you really were, and how I was granting you sanctuary, since Regina had turned against you and usurped your throne and tried to kill you. I said that legally you might be Regina's ward, but she had destroyed that right by trying to murder you, thus making you a ward of your kingdom. That meant that someone could claim you as their family, but no one there dared. I told him that I wished to claim you as my child, and in order to do so, I was calling in my favor. That I would use it to get him agree to my adoption, and once I had legally adopted you, Regina had no claim on you, or any right to your throne. It was the best way I knew how to protect you, Snow. Besides, you've become a daughter to me and Belle during the time you've stayed here, and the best way for us to acknowledge that was to adopt you. Then too, if Regina tries anything now, I'll be within my rights to stomp her into the dust. Because _nobody_ hurts my family."

He said that last with a fierce glint in his eye, and it almost sent a shiver down Snow's backbone. Then she recalled that he would never use his power to harm her, she was his daughter, and he would protect her unto death, and the thought warmed her to the core of her being. She put her arms about his neck and hugged him then, saying, "I'm so glad you've made me part of your family, I've missed that since my father died."

"We're glad to call you our daughter, Snow," said Belle, reaching out to stroke the raven head next to her own. "I hope that you can put Regina and her . . . abuse behind you and be happy in your new life with us."

"I shall, Mama," Snow beamed at her. "I always wanted a big family, and now I've got one. And soon it'll be even bigger," she glanced pointedly at Belle's middle.

Belle patted her stomach. "Yes, and I can't wait for them to get born. I feel like I'm carrying about a cannon ball!"

"They'll be here soon enough, Belle," said Rum, eyeing the bulge in her dress lovingly. "In about another ten weeks or so, I'd guess. Or so Granny tells me."

"Those ten weeks can't go fast enough, Rum," his wife sighed. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder as Flicker pulled them up the hill towards the castle, while Jack, Bae, and Nick rode alongside and Alice and Jeff brought up the rearguard.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next night was the eve of the new year, and down in Valley Way, the villagers celebrated this event with parties at the Goose and privately in their own residences. Up at the Dark Castle, the Golds had a quiet family get-together, though some friends, like Archie, Charming, Ruby, Pinocchio, and Ray did come over and celebrate with them during the day. But at night it was just the family and Myrnin, whom Rumple made clear that he considered the half-elven prince family.

They rang in the new year quietly, with a buffet style dinner, and sparkling white wine toasts among the adults, and the older children, like Bae, Rennie, Snow, Elaina, Rafe, Aurora, Ivy, and Myrnin. The younger children had strawberry punch. They gathered with their glasses in the orchard, near a tree that Rumple designated the new year tree, and at precisely the stroke of midnight, they all toasted each other and wished each other a happy and prosperous new year.

And when they all looked at the tree, it had burst into flower, with sweet-smelling white and pink blossoms and golden leaves.

"How'd it do that, Papa?" Phillip cried, amazed.

"It's part of the new year magic, son," his father explained. "When I designated this tree, I infused it with a small amount of my magic. When the clock struck the first hour of the new year, it linked with the magic of the land, and it became as you see it now, blessed by the god Janus, lord of change and beginnings. The blossoms and gold leaves are a sign of his favor. You can each pick a flower, girls, and also a leaf, boys. They'll last till the turning of the next year, and it's said carrying such a token will bring you good luck."

"My people believe that too," Myrnin said, and he plucked a pink flower and gave it to Ivy, who then picked a gold leaf and gave it to him. Then he took her arm and they walked through the orchard, smiling at each other and looking at the stars.

"It's so beautiful tonight," Ivy sighed. "The stars look close enough to touch."

"Yes, they do," Myrnin said softly.

They walked onward for a few more feet, neither willing to say what was in their hearts, that it was time for him to leave.

He fingered the golden ring about his neck and rubbed his hand over the leaf in his pocket. His other was clasped in hers, and suddenly he stopped and put his arms about her. "Stars and shadows, Ivy, but I don't want to go back."

"Then don't. Stay here," she murmured into his chest, knowing even as she said them that she was being selfish. His people needed him, and he would not abandon them, not and still keep his honor.

He kissed the top of her head. "If I could follow the wish of my heart, I'd do it. But I was raised a prince of my people, and taught that duty takes precedence over all, even my heart, which begs me to stay here, where I am at peace. And like it or not, I'm needed there . . . though I'd like to say to hell with it all and stay here."

She leaned against him, listening to the steady thrum of his heart and loving the sinewy strength in his arms, strength gained from hours of practice with bow and sword. "I understand, love. Though sometimes I wish I didn't, and could beg you to stay, like some spoiled maiden in a tale. But I know better. The hawk must fly free, and then he shall return when it's time."

"Yes, _a'liri_. I may fly away for a time, but I shall always return. Someday I shall return for good, when my people no longer need me, I shall come back and make you my bride and remain here always, among the sunlit hills, far away from the forest's shadows."

"Even though your father disapproves?"

"Even then. I have given him all the loyalty and love that I possess, and still it's not enough to make him love me in return. I'm tired of butting my head against a stone wall and coming away bleeding. I fight in this war for duty and honor, and the love of the _il'Shennara_, not because he commands it, though he believes he controls me. He doesn't. Unlike most of his subjects, I'm not in awe of him, great magic worker though he is. Once, when I was little, I tried my best to become like him, until the day I realized it was a fool's hope, that he would never see me as anything save a reminder of what he had lost."

"Oh, Myrnin! I wish I could go and beat your papa's stubborn head in with my broom!" Ivy declared fiercely. "He has the best son ever, and he doesn't even seem to appreciate it."

"Oh, he does. He appreciates my older brother, Arion," Myrnin said ironically.

"He should appreciate _you_. You're just as worthy of his love."

He gave her a slight smile. "Pity he's never seen that. But that's water under the bridge now. Like I said, it's not for him I'm going back."

"Be careful, Myrnin," Ivy sad suddenly.

"Always, love," he whispered. "Playing the hero and dying isn't in my plans." His mouth found hers then and kissed her, at first gentle and then more fiercely, as he knew this would have to last until he came back again to the castle and the lovely clever girl who had claimed his heart on midsummer's eve.

Her hands tightened on him as their kiss deepened, as if somehow by that simple act she could keep him there, beside her. She hated the thought that he had to leave, to return to fight a war not of his making, that seemed to suck all the warmth and gentleness from him, leaving him sharp and hard as the obsidian dagger her father owned. She wished she could find the words to convince him to stay, knowing all too well the perils of war. But her clever tongue was still, and she did not utter them. What was the point? To make him feel guilty over leaving her served no purpose. He knew her heart, as she did his. _The hawk must fly free, but he shall always return. Return to me, Myrnin, safe and unharmed. That's all I ask of you._ She deepened their kiss, losing herself in the passion of the moment, wishing she possessed the power to make time stand still. But time continued on its course, fixed like the stars in the sky, and at last she drew away, her heart aching within her.

Her eyes glistening with unshed tears, she whispered, "Merry meet and merry part, my brilliant sorcerer."

"And merry meet again, Ivy _a'liri_." He swallowed hard. "I need to say goodbye to your family. If the gods are kind, in two months this war shall be done, and then we'll be together always. If your father will permit it."

"If he didn't, do you think we'd be out here walking?" she chuckled. "Myrnin, don't you know that he loves you? Like his own son."

"That's why it's so strange, that someone who owes me no loyalty, no tie of blood, can love me better than my own father. And yet, I know he does. Him and your mother both, they are what I've always wanted. Along with you. I have dwelt among the beauty and magic of the _il'Shennara_ all my life, and yet it's this one simple thing I crave, that I never thought I'd find, but it has found me. And having found it now, I shall never let it go." He drew her close, one last time, and whispered, "Here in my arms is my heart, and my home this castle under the stars. I must leave today but someday I'll return. I love you, Ivy Gold."

"I love you too, Merlin Stormshadow. And I'll be right here, waiting."

He slipped from her arms soon after, and they walked back among the trees, where her family sang the last carols to welcome in the new year.

They bid him goodbye quietly, though Clary hugged him and asked plaintively, "Why are you always leaving, Myrnin?"

He knelt and put his hands on her small shoulders and said, "Because, sprite, for now my people need me. But someday they won't, and I can come back for good."

"To stay?"

He nodded. Then he untied a white banded feather from the top of his bow and closed her hand around it. "This feather is from a snow falcon, I earned it protecting my people from a dark spell. Keep it safe for me, Clary. Until I come home again, _mayshiara_, that's little sister in elven."

She clutched the feather tightly. "Come home _soon_." Then she kissed his cheek.

He rose, the lump in his throat more pronounced, and prepared to leave, when Rumple came and said, "Come, lad. I'll walk with you to the forest's edge."

Myrnin followed the Gold sorcerer and they walked through the orchard toward the shadowy forest on the edge of the wheat field, the younger one slowing his steps to match those of his mentor. When they had reached the end of the wheat field, now covered in snow, Myrnin said, "You know I'd never leave if I had a choice, Rum."

"I know. But I want you to remember what I said about choices, lad. That sometimes the right one is one you make yourself. I don't like you going back there, but you already know how much I disapprove of children fighting wars. Were I your father, you'd never . . ." he shook his head abruptly. "Be that as it may, I want you to remember three things. One, set a ward at your back before you sleep each night, two, if you have to kill, do it quickly and mercifully, and three, if you need me, call me. Oh, and try and meditate each night before you sleep. But if you can't, take this," He handed him two vials of the milky potion. "It's concentrated, this batch, so only take three swallows at a time. It should last you two months."

"Then I'll come back, Rum."

"You'd better. Because if not I'll come fetch you and to the seventh hell with your father," he mock-growled.

Myrnin smirked. "Just thinking about the look on his face makes me feel better."

"Good. And remember, you can always come home to my castle. No matter what." He put his arms around the slender youth and hugged him hard. "Be safe, son."

"I'll try," he said hoarsely, blinking back unwanted tears. "Thank you for everything."

"No thanks are necessary. Just return to me when you can."

"I will. You have my word on it."

"And the word of a warrior decorated for the highest honors is worth his weight in gold," Rumple said.

"You know then, what the feather means?"

"I know. I've been studying up on your customs since we last met. I know that only the best and the bravest wear the snow falcon's feather."

"I did what I had to. But I'd much rather be using my magic for building things up than tearing them down," he sighed.

"You will. I'll teach you more when you come back."

They separated then, and both their eyes were wet with tears. Myrnin waved once before he vanished into the trees like smoke, and the Gold sorcerer sighed before turning to walk back to his family. The new year had started with a mixture of sorrow and joy, and he wondered if that were a sign of things to come.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_The Enchanted Forest_

_Regina's palace:_

Regina drank the last of the wine in her crystal goblet, rubbing her eyes, as it was late, about one o'clock in the morning. She smoothed down the front of her new ball gown, a silk and satin wine colored affair, with rubies encrusted on the bodice and sleeves. They rubies shimmered like blood in the light of the candelabras in the great hall, an effect Regina liked, as it reminded her subjects of her beauty and power.

She glanced about. Most of the revelers invited to her masked ball were either passed out drunk at their tables or gone up to bed to sleep it off, like Hook and Milah had after midnight had come. Regina tapped her chin thoughtfully and considered waking up Hook and seeing if he wanted to romp beneath the sheets with her. He hadn't been adverse to it before, and what Milah didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Not that Regina felt guilty about seducing her friend's husband. In the first place, she hadn't had to try very hard to get the rogue in her bed and in the second place, she was the queen and it was her right to have any male at her court she wished. That was an unspoken rule, and one that previous monarchs hadn't really exercised, but Regina wasn't one to leave any aspect of power unchecked.

Then she reconsidered. Hook had been drunker than one of his pirates on leave when she had last seen him and probably wouldn't be any good to her right then. She considered the silver chased wine decanter before her, debating on whether to have another glass before turning in.

As she did so, her facile mind was recalling the cryptic message her assassin had delivered in the beginning of November regarding her missing stepdaughter, Snow White. Cryptic because it seemed unfinished, but he had not contacted her to tell her if the deed was done. Which meant Snow still lived. Regina tapped her nails on the table, thinking, _I should have known better to send a lackey to do my job for me. If you want something done right, do it yourself._

But she had been busy establishing new rules in her kingdom and putting down the revolts in the mines nearby led by those troublesome dwarves and the rebel leader, a young huntsman named Graham to really concentrate on Snow White and also her missing advisor, Jefferson Hatter. Regina suspected the adventurer had betrayed her and spirited her stepdaughter away, because without help, Snow couldn't even get out of the palace grounds, she was so dull-witted.

She pondered what could have become of the assassin. Most likely he was dead, if he had gone up against Hatter, the former mercenary could have killed him. The contents of the Black Brother's last missive danced in her head.

_Gracious Majesty,_

_I have discovered where she lairs. In a place where there is a village in a valley and a_ there had been a black smudge on that word _on a hill. I almost had her once, but I was interrupted. But next time I shall succeed, and no two-bit conjurer shall stop me from fulfilling my objective. This I swear by all the dark gods._

It had been unsigned, or rather only with the seal of the Black Brothers, a black dagger.

As Regina thought about the missing word and the assassin's comments, a flash of insight lit up inside her head. _A village in a valley and . . . a castle on a hill! Valley Way. That backwater village below the Dark Castle. Of course! It all makes sense now. Hatter is friends with that cowardly sorcerer, he said as much once upon a time. And where does one run to when one is in danger of losing one's head? Why to his best friend!_ A smile of icy triumph curved over her delicate features. _I have you now, Snow White! And you as well, Jefferson Hatter._

Her hand clenched over her goblet. "Rumplestiltskin!" she snarled. "You will rue the day you chose to shelter my wayward stepdaughter and your traitor friend, conjurer! I'll make sure of it!"

The slow burn of hatred was like acid in her gut, but she welcomed the stinging. She would finally have her revenge on both traitors and the sorcerer who had once spurned her. But first, she needed to plan. And so as not to be seen as an invading monarch in Attica, she would send a letter to Rumplestiltskin, one that stated that he should, in no uncertain terms, release to her Snow White and Hatter, or else suffer her wrath.

Laughing coldly, she summoned a piece of parchment and a quill and ink. Then she began to write, thinking deliciously at how she was going to take apart Jefferson piece by piece and make Snow watch, as well as destroy Milah's former husband once and for all, and end the rumors that the Dark One was the most powerful magician in all the realms. _Except he's not the Dark One anymore, by his own admission,_ she sneered. _He's naught but a cowardly spinner and hedge witch now, without the dark magic he's no match for me. I'll tear out his guts and leave them hanging on his castle walls and take his brats and sell them at the slave market or use them in my magical experiments and make his wife lick my boots as my new chambermaid. Because nobody defies me and lives to tell the tale. Nobody!_

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_A week later:_

"Polaris! Give that back!" Snow hollered as she chased her disobedient black puppy across the foyer.

Polaris ran straight into the sitting room, carrying her boot in his mouth, delighted with the new game he had invented, which always seemed to get someone to chase him.

The puppy raced around Rum's spinning wheel, shaking the boot in his mouth and growling playfully.

Rumple looked up as the puppy scampered by, he was knitting a sweater for Belle, as she was always freezing now, while she rested on the sofa. She had begun spotting lightly, and Granny had told her that she must rest for at least half the week, or else risk being put on total bed rest for the remaining weeks before the delivery.

The sorcerer set aside his project and stood, saying sternly, "Polaris! Bad puppy! Drop it!"

Snow burst into the room, limping because she was only wearing one boot. "Come here, you little scamp! Papa, he's got my boot!"

"I see it, dearie," Rumple said. Then he cast a quick "come hither" spell, not minded to chase the scamp all over the room and risk breaking something.

Polaris yelped as he was suddenly lifted up by an invisible hand and floated over to his disapproving mistress and her father, both of who were scowling at him.

Snow removed her boot from his mouth, ending the game, and scolded, "No, Polaris! No chewing my boots!" She accompanied the words with a firm tap on the puppy's nose.

Polaris hung his head, knowing those words meant he had been bad, but he never understood what was so wrong about chewing such deliciously smelling objects.

Rumple gestured and the puppy was lowered to the floor and released from his spell.

Freed, Polaris frisked up to the sorcerer and tried to gnaw _his_ shoes, but was once again told "No!" and given a firm tap on the rump, this time by Rumple himself. Chastened, the puppy cowered on the floor, until Snow grabbed a half-gnawed bone and gave it to him to play with.

Snow looked at her harum-scarum puppy and shook her head ruefully. "He's such a scamp! Sometimes I don't know what to do with him—he's always in trouble."

"He'll grow out of it. Right now he has the brain of a two-year-old, Snow. You need to keep reinforcing good behavior at this stage and giving him firm yet loving discipline, like a parent. It's what I did with Bae, Ivy, and Clary when they were that age. Do you know how many times I put Ivy in time out for touching something she wasn't supposed to? About ten times a day. Bae was always wandering off somewhere he shouldn't. I finally took some rope and tied him to me, so I didn't go out of my mind. And Clary, she was into everything—flour, sugar, my pens and ink, I used to call her Sticky Hands because she always had something she shouldn't in her hand when she was a toddler. Your puppy's much the same way."

"I don't know how you put up with all that," Snow said admiringly.

"Being a parent teaches you patience, Snow. Otherwise you go insane and start hating your children. The trick is to see the mistakes your kids make as a series of progressions rather than failures. Polaris is a smart dog. He just needs to learn boundaries."

"I'll see if Jasmine can talk to him again," Snow said.

"Hmm. Talking to him might not do much good at this age. Remember, he's a baby, and babies forget what you said ten seconds after you've said it. It's why time out or a quick swat works better than a scolding when they're two and three, especially with the more adventuresome ones. They remember that, unlike a lecture. Of course, occasionally you get a child who is naturally obedient, like June is. But mine never were. Until they grew older."

Snow knelt and stroked her puppy's head. "Thanks, Papa. I'll remember that." She ruffled the dog's floppy ears. "And maybe one day you'll learn how to behave, huh?"

Polaris whuffed suddenly, looking over at the foyer.

Just then there came a quick knock at the doors.

Rumple limped over to answer the door and found Charming on the other side. "Hello, Jim. Come in, it's bitter out there."

"Don't I know it," James said, shaking his head. "Two of my sheep froze last night. Silly things wandered away from the flock and were too stupid to come back when it got cold. By the time Rex and I found them, it was too late."

"Ah, that's too bad." Rumple stepped back so the younger man could enter the castle.

Polaris abandoned his bone to run up and jump on Charming, wagging his tail happily.

Charming knelt and got licked thoroughly by the puppy. "Hey, you! Are you being good?"

"Hardly. He stole my boot and made me chase him all over the castle," Snow said.

"Like his mother. Dusty chewed Mom's and my shoes apart, we had to put them on the table till she stopped doing it." Charming frowned at the puppy and said, "You'd better behave for Snow, boy, or else I'll take you and sell you to the Gypsies, you hear?"

Polaris barked, wriggling on the floor, and Charming laughed and rubbed his belly.

Rumple turned to go back into the sitting room and take up his knitting again, he was making a fisherman patterned sweater, using mostly undyed wool to get the waterproof qualities of the lanolin incorporated into the garment. He could have simply spelled the sweater waterproof, but he preferred to use the wool's natural qualities whenever possible.

Jack ran down the stairs, waved hello to Charming, then called, "Papa! Can I go over to Ray's house after lunch? He's going to put a saddle on Sunny for the first time and he needs my help."

Rumple turned and said, in a somewhat sharp tone, "Jack, lower your voice! Your mom's sleeping."

"Sorry, I didn't know," the boy said, instantly contrite. All the children knew that Belle was often sick and tried their best to control themselves whenever possible. "Can I, Papa? Please?"

"You've finished your reading assignment?"

"Uh huh. And I wrote the rough draft of my paper too. You want to see it?"

"No. I trust you, son. After lunch you can go help Ray."

Jack almost let out a yell, but then he recalled Rumple's earlier admonition and just smiled and said, "Thanks a lot, Papa!"

He was about to rush into the kitchen for something to drink when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" he said, and ran to tug open the doors.

He found a messenger on the steps, who said, "I have a letter here for Archmagus Gold."

"I'll give it to him. I'm his son, Jack," he told him.

The messenger handed Jack the letter and then said, "Farewell. I hope it's good news."

Jack ducked back inside the castle and ran over to where Rumple was standing just outside the doors to the sitting room. "Papa, here's a letter for you." Suddenly he tripped over his shoe lace, and the letter fluttered out of his hand and landed next to Snow's foot.

"Careful, Jack," his father said, catching the boy. "Tie your shoes before you knock yourself silly."

"Yes, Papa," the boy sighed, and knelt to tie the offending lace tighter.

Snow picked up the letter, and as she did so, she noted the seal upon it. It was the familiar crest of the crowned tree. "It's from the Enchanted Forest!" she exclaimed, handing it to Rum.

The sorcerer took it, and muttered a charm to detect curses over it before he opened it. "It's from Regina." He unfolded a single sheet of parchment, bearing the royal crest of the Enchanted Forest. He began to read the letter aloud, his face darkening.

_To the sorcerer known as the Dark One, or Rumplestiltskin,_

_It has recently come to our attention that you have been harboring several fugitives from us. They are known criminals and traitors here in this kingdom, called Jefferson Hatter and Snow White. We wish them turned over to our authority immediately to be given justice at our hand for their traitorous actions and rebellion against our authority. _

_Failure to comply with these wishes will be met with force, as you will paint yourself an enemy of the throne and our justice. It is advised that you obey our dictates and release to us those mentioned forthwith, or else suffer the wrath of the Queen of the Enchanted Forest._

_Regina, reigning Queen of the Enchanted Forest_

_P.S. As a reminder, I have sent a token of my displeasure to my disobedient stepdaughter, so that she remembers what happens to bad little girls who run off without leave._

As soon as Rumple had read the last line, there came a flash of light and the severed head of a white stallion appeared in the foyer, right next to Snow.

Polaris growled and barked threateningly at the odd object, which smelled of blood and death.

Snow recoiled in horror, then she started screaming. "No! Champion!" She put a hand over her mouth, her eyes bulging in grief and terror as she stared at the remains of her once beloved horse. "Oh, gods, she killed you!" she howled, bursting into tears and moving to put a hand on the horse's head, which had its eyes open and seemed to stare guiltily into her own.

"Snow, don't! Don't look!" Charming cried, also horrified by the grisly trophy. He grabbed his girlfriend and hugged her to him, turning her about so she couldn't see the head.

"Papa!" cried Jack, staring in helpless fascination at the poor horse's head. "How could she do that, the miserable bitch? How?" To Jack, who adored horses, what Regina had done was sickening, destroying an innocent animal out of sheer cruelty, to make a point. "Somebody ought to put her head on a pole!" Then he started to cry too.

Rumple gestured quickly, and the grisly head was banished outside, out of sight of his children. "Jack, lad, it's okay," he said, reaching for the boy and pulling him into a hug. He cursed his slowness, he should have known Regina would send something of the sort along with her missive, to illustrate her point. He stroked his son's hair.

Jack clung to him, burying his face in Rumple's tunic front and weeping hysterically, as Snow was doing on Charming's shoulder. The casual violence shocked the impressionable boy, especially seeing as it had been done to a beloved horse, even though he had not known Champion.

"I'm so sorry, Snow," Charming was saying, rocking the distraught girl back and forth, sickened as well by Regina's cruelty. "Gods, what an evil twisted hag!" He patted her back, wishing he knew something else to say to alleviate the grief she was feeling.

"It's m-my fault!" Snow sobbed. "I never s-should have left h-him there! S-She k-killed him b-because of m-me."

"Snow, listen to me," Rumple said, his voice quiet but filled with an odd note of power. He too was sickened by Regina's merciless act, but he was also furious that she had hurt his children with her twisted object lesson. "It wasn't your fault, dearie, that Champion died. Don't blame yourself, because that's exactly what Regina wants. She killed your poor horse to make you afraid, to make you feel so guilty that you'll leave here and turn yourself over to her. Don't let her win, Snow."

Jack still had his face buried in Rumple's tunic, but his sobs were dying down to sniffles now. "What did she mean, that awful hag, about Snow and Uncle Jeff? She called them traitors, Papa."

"She thinks we betrayed her, Jack, because Jeff found out about her plot to kill me before she could do anything," Snow sniffled, lifting her head from Charming's shoulder. "We got away before her pet assassin could strike, and that makes us traitors in her eyes. Because we didn't stay and let her slaughter us like sheep."

"She's crazy, Snow. Sick like a mad dog," Jack cried, half turning to face his sister, though still within his father's arms. "Somebody needs to put an arrow in her brain. Your poor horse!" More tears leaked from his eyes, and Rumple pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him. "Papa, we ought to have a funeral."

Rumple nodded sadly. "Yes, of course we will, Jack. Is that all right with you, Snow?"

"Y-yes. That way he . . . can rest in peace," she whimpered, the horror still fresh in her mind. "He . . . w-was a g-good friend. J-Jeff gave him to me when I was twelve, as a birthday p-present."

Polaris jumped up and licked her face then, sensing something was wrong.

Snow picked up the puppy and buried her face in the soft fur, crying.

"What the hell happened?" Jefferson asked, coming in from the conservatory, where he'd been fencing with Alice. "Did somebody die?"

Snow and Jack started bawling again, and Rumple rubbed circles on Jack's back and said, "Ah, Jeff, that's a damn poor choice of phrase. I just got this from Regina, along with one of her "tokens". She attached Snow's horse's head to her damned ultimatum." He handed a shocked Jefferson the letter.

Jefferson took it and read it, swearing under his breath. "That miserable harpy! Who the bloody hell does she think she is? Lady and mistress of all she surveys?" He spat furiously. Then he knelt beside Snow and said, "Aww, kid, I'm sorry. I should have had you take him with us. But I never thought she'd do anything like this." He patted her back soothingly. "She ought to be strung up or burnt alive in a cage, Rum! What a bloody sick witch!"

"What's wrong?" asked Alice, coming into the foyer.

"Rum? What's the matter?" Belle said sleepily, appearing in the doorway of the sitting room. "Why are Snow and Jack crying?"

"Jeff, would you mind explaining?" asked Rum. "I need to get a potion from my apothecary chest."

As Jefferson began to speak, Belle came over beside Rumple and gently pulled Jack into her arms. "Shh . . . it's all right, son." She carded his messy hair, her eyes widening as she listened to what Jeff said.

"She killed that poor horse, Mama," Jack sniffled. "Just . . . 'cause she w-was mad at Snow for n-not dying or something. I hate her! She oughta be roasted over a fire."

"Yes, I know. She's an evil heartless witch, and someday all the evil she's done will come back and bite her right in the ass," Belle said fiercely, incensed that she had hurt Snow so badly and scared the blazes out of Jack as well. She hugged her son and carded his hair while waiting for her husband to return.

Rumple had gone to fetch a potion that calmed one's nerves from his apothecary chest. He then teleported himself down to the kitchen and made some tea, carefully adding a measure of the potion to two cups and mixing it with some milk. Luckily Ivy was upstairs, having agreed to play with Clary for a bit, so he didn't have three hysterical children to deal with.

He brought the tea into the sitting room and had Belle and Charming bring Jack and Snow in there. They sat the two down on the sofa and Rumple handed them the potion-laced tea, saying softly, "I want you to drink all of this, dearies. It'll help with the shock."

As the two sipped their tea, Jeff turned to Rumple and said, "So, what do you plan to do about this, buddy?"

"Well, I'm not going to surrender either of you to her," Rumple declared angrily. "She can rot in the seventh hell before that'll happen." He took the missive and crumpled it in his fist, then ignited it with a sharp snap of his finger. It burned to ash in his palm and he dusted his hand off. "If she wants either of you, she's going to have to go through me first, and she won't find me as easy to kill as that poor animal. If she tries anything, she'll wish she'd never been born, sure as I'm the Gold sorcerer!"

"Yeah, kick her ass, Papa," Jack growled from his seat on the sofa.

"Mind that mouth, lad," Rumple told him. "You're upset, so I'll overlook it. But you're not old enough to swear like a mercenary yet, understand?"

Jack nodded, then drank the rest of his tea.

Snow sipped the tea in one hand, and blotted her eyes with Rum's handkerchief with the other. She didn't know what he had put in the tea, but whatever it was calmed her enough so she didn't feel like screaming any longer. Even the horror of seeing her beloved stallion's head on the floor was dulled somewhat. Her heart ached terribly for the loss of her horse, but she also wanted to strangle her stepmother for doing such a thing to Champion. But as the tea went to work, she stopped wishing even for that, and instead started to feel sleepy. Beside her, Jack was already dozing.

Charming caught her cup before it fell from her grasp. "Snow? She's asleep!"

"That's the potion, Jim. It soothes and calms one down and often makes you sleepy," Rumple explained. "That's what I wanted to happen. I'll have a quick funeral after lunch, just Snow, Jack, and I. Unless you want to join us, Jeff?"

"Yeah, I'd better. I was the one who picked Champion for her," sighed the mercenary. "That scummy no-good b—ah, guess I'd better watch my mouth too, before you make me eat soap, huh, Rum?"

"Please do. The last thing I need is for my ten-year-old to start swearing like a sailor home on leave," the sorcerer sighed. He took the cup from Jack's limp fingers and rearranged him on the sofa in a more comfortable position, then tucked blankets around both Snow and Jack.

"Guess we ought to go dig a grave, huh, Alice?" Jeff asked solemnly.

"I can do that with magic," his friend told him.

"Nah. It's good exercise and it'll keep me from thinking too much about killing Regina," Jefferson said. "Right, Alice?"

"Right, Jeff. It shouldn't take too long. Where would you like it?"

"I think . . . that piece of ground near the wheat field will do," said Rumple.

As Jeff and Alice went outside, he said, "Would either of you like a cup of tea?"

Belle and Charming nodded, so Rumple went back into the kitchen to fix three more cups, while Polaris chewed his bone on the hearth, behaving himself for once.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Snow and Jack slept through lunch, allowing Rumple and Belle some time to inform the rest of the family about what had happened. They were all horrified and saddened for Snow, and they all agreed Regina ought to have her head hung on a pole for what she had done. But Belle cautioned them not to mention the incident to Snow because it made her sad.

After the two had woken and eaten something, Rumple led them out to the place Jeff and Alice had picked. A grave had been dug close to the wheat field and Rumple gently levitated Champion's head into the hole.

Snow tossed a handful of dirt into the hole and whispered, "Rest in peace, faithful friend. I will never forget you."

Jack also tossed in a handful of dirt and said quietly, "May you run forever with Epona the Lady of Horses, on the starry path."

Jeff followed suit. "You served your mistress well, Champion. Now go on to your reward, old fellow."

"We'll avenge your death, noble one," Alice said.

When they had all said farewell, Rumple used his magic to seal the grave tight, then had grass grow over the spot and placed a marker that said Champion, beloved stallion, on it and the years of his birth and death.

Then he took Jack by the arm and said quietly, "I think you ought to go and see Ray. Sometimes it helps, to see another horse alive, after something like that."

"All right," Jack agreed, then he took the path to the de Brabante's stone house.

Snow and Charming stood for awhile by the grave, then Charming wrapped his arm about Snow and started walking along the edge of the fallow field with her, snow crunching under their boots. They walked for a long time, neither saying anything.

Finally, Charming spoke. "I've never had anything like this happen to me, Snow. But I just want to let you know that I'm here for you, no matter what. And if Regina thinks she can scare us away by these disgusting tactics, she's dumber than the village idiot mated with a sheep! I'm not going anywhere, and that's a promise."

Snow smiled a little at that. "Thanks, Charming." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I've always known she was dangerous to cross, but I never imagined she could be that cruel . . . that . . . evil. Until now. She scares me, Charming. I don't want her to hurt anyone because of me."

"Snow, Regina does whatever she thinks she can get away with. Didn't you hear what Rum said before? If she wants to try and hurt you, she'll have to deal with him first. And if she thinks he's an easy mark, she's dumber than I thought. He's got more power than any magic worker in this kingdom . . . in all the kingdoms, I think. And he'll use every scrap of it to defend his home and his family. If Regina comes for you, Snow, she's asking to get her ass kicked to hell and back. By him and by me too."

"You're sweet, Charming. I'm just worried, that's all."

"Don't be, pretty girl. Come on, let's go back inside and have some hot chocolate with cinnamon by the fire. Maybe play a game of chess too."

"I always beat you at chess," she teased.

"Then we'll play checkers," he smirked.

So that was what they did, and Snow found the knot of grief within her lessen slightly as she spent time with Charming, though her concerns over Regina still kept her awake at night, until Belle came and sat with her, humming softly until she drifted off to sleep, aided by one of Rumple's potions so she slept dreamlessly until the dawn.

**A/N: And so it begins . . . Regina's campaign to make Rumple, Snow, and Jeff pay for defying her. **


	56. Myrnin's Choice

**56**

**Myrnin's Choice**

After Regina's ultimatum had been delivered, Rumple decided to increase the wards and protective magics over the castle, as well as having Bae and Charming once again accompany Jeff and Alice when they escorted Snow to school. He wasn't exactly sure if or when Regina would decide to try something, but he knew the value of being prepared, and so when the children were at school for the next two weeks, he walked his lands, from the border of the Mystic Wood to the Shepherd's cottage, to the western boundary where the de Brabante's rented their house and the path that led to Valley Way. And as he did so, he "spoke" with the resident land spirits that dwelled there, and their forest cousins, explaining to them why he was increasing the wards and asking if they would keep watch for him and warn him if any dark creature or enemy tried to cross over his boundaries. The spirits agreed, for it was their home as well, and they wanted no dark creature to disrupt the balance. As payment for their vigilance, Rumple took his knife and scored his hand three times with it, making three parallel cuts, then allowing his blood to drip onto the soil in certain spots.

"With my blood and my magic, I renew my contract with the land, and those who dwell within it," he chanted softly. "Let my renewal strengthen the land and avert all darkness."

"We hear and accept your sacrifice, Gold sorcerer," came the silvery otherworldly voices of the spirits. "It shall be done as you command."

With the wards renewed, stronger than before, Rumple then turned his mind to thinking about the castle defenses. The Dark Castle was very old, having been built centuries past to house the first of the cursed sorcerers, and it had been built as a fortress, to keep people out and not welcome them inside. It was only since he had donned the mantle and come there with his children that the castle became a home and not a forbidding prison. Many of the castle's former magical defenses he'd let lapse, because they were too dangerous to have active with young children around. But someday soon he would have to look into renewing a few of them if necessary . . . or creating new ones.

He walked back across the yard, feeling the thrumming within the earth that signified active magic, his hand wrapped in a handkerchief. He could have mended the cuts on his hand in an instant, but did not do so, preferring to let them heal naturally, as they were a sign of his sacrifice, his willingness to shed his blood to protect his family. It was the only kind of blood magic he practiced these days.

When he entered the kitchen, he found that Granny was there along with Belle, coming for her weekly visit to examine his now vastly pregnant wife. They were drinking tea and eating some of Ivy's currant almond cake.

"How's she doing, Granny?" he asked the older woman.

"Quite well. Those babies are very active now," the old woman chuckled.

"Good. And the spotting, has it stopped?"

"Ah. You told him then?" Granny shot Belle a shrewd look.

"He saw it, one morning when I got up," Belle admitted.

"I was the one who insisted she call you," Rumple said, coming to sit down next to Belle. "_She_ wanted to wait."

"Because I've seen it before, with my other patients," Belle said, rolling her eyes. "And it wasn't that bad. I knew you would get all frazzled, Rum."

He frowned at her. "I was _not _getting all frazzled," he objected. "I was concerned because you were suddenly bleeding, Belle, andI might not be a Healer or a midwife, but I know damn well that's never a good sign."

"Be that as it may, she's fine now, Rumple," Granny said, breaking in before the conversation could get too heated. "Just make sure she stays off her feet and doesn't do too much until February and she should deliver right on schedule, about thirty-seven or thirty-eight weeks."

"I thought it was forty," Rumple said.

"Usually, yes. But not with twins. They come earlier," Granny informed him.

Bae came into the kitchen then, his hair curling and slightly damp from the bath he'd just taken following a vigorous training session with Alice. "Hey, Granny. How're you keeping?"

"Fine, Bae. You look chipper this afternoon."

"Alice's sparring sessions will do that," he said, smiling as he made himself a sandwich of leftover beef brisket, tomato, cheese, and mustard. He added some baked salted kale chips along with it and sat down to eat it across from Belle and his father, pouring himself a cup of cold cider as well. "How's Mom doing?"

Granny chuckled and Belle sighed. "You and your father. The both of you are going to worry yourselves to death. I'm fine, Bae."

He looked over at Granny. "Is she?"

Belle glared at him indignantly. "Don't you trust your mother, Baelfire?"

He slowly shook his head. "Not when it comes to your own health. You're a Healer, Mom, you take care of people till you're dropping dead. So, is she?"

Granny snickered. "She's fine, boy."

"Good. That's all I wanted to know," her son said, and took a bite of his sandwich.

"He's got you there, dearie," Rumple chuckled.

Belle kicked his ankle under the table. "Who asked you, Rum?" she demanded tartly. Then her eyes fixed on his hand. "What did you do to your hand?"

"Ritual magic, dearie," he answered softly. "I needed to do some renewing of the boundary wards and such. It's nothing."

"Let me see it. Before you drop dead of blood poisoning," Belle ordered, pulling her husband's hand onto the table and unwrapping the handkerchief he had wrapped about it. She examined the shallow slashes, saying, "Hmm. Not too deep, but I want to make sure it doesn't become infected. Bae, fetch me my bag."

Bae rose to do as she'd said, and Rumple protested softly, "Belle, I'm fine. I can put something on it later, really . . ."

"Hush, you! I'm the Healer and I say it gets fixed up now," she told him.

"My gods, you're stubborn."

"So sue me," she snorted.

Bae returned with her medical satchel and she quickly removed some bandages, some ointment, and some yarrow wash from it, along with a clean cloth. "Now be good and let me clean this and you'll get some candy," she teased.

He rolled his eyes. "How about a kiss?"

"We'll see," she smirked, and gently cleaned the cuts and put some healing ointment on them before wrapping them in a clean bandage. Rumple remained still, not even wincing. She tied the bandage off then bent and kissed his palm. "There! A kiss to make it better."

"Belle! I meant a—"

"I know what you meant, darling. And _that_ can wait till later," she grinned. Then she tucked her satchel beside her foot and resumed drinking her tea.

Granny chortled into her teacup, saying slyly, "Guess I can see who's the real boss in this castle."

"Now wait a minute—" the sorcerer began, but before he could finish his sentence, Clary came into the kitchen.

"Hi, Granny!" she greeted the old woman. "Papa, I'm hungry."

"Well, sit down here by me and have some cake and tea then," he told her, and patted the chair beside him. Then he did a double take as he noticed her for the first time. "Clarissa, what are you . . . how did you . . .?"

For the little girl had stuffed a pillow under her tunic and pair of small trousers and she looked almost as round as her mother. "I'm havin' a baby too, Papa!" she announced. "Like Mama!"

Bae nearly fell off his chair, he was laughing so much.

Rumple bit his lip hard. "Umm . . . Clary, dearie, you can't really—"

Belle put her hand over his mouth. "Hush, Rumple. Let her pretend. It's adorable."

Granny winked at them, a smile creasing her face. "So when are you due, Mistress Clary?"

"Umm . . . in a few days," the little girl declared, crawling up on the chair. "'Cause this baby's heavy and I can barely walk, don'tcha know?"

"Yes, I can see that. It must be a big one," Granny said.

Bae was gasping for breath. He took a drink of cider.

"It is," Clary nodded solemnly. "It's like havin' _three _babies. An' they jump all over in me an' my back hurts an' I have to pee all the time an' it just sucks!"

"I bet it does," Granny nodded, her eyes twinkling.

Belle burst out laughing, followed by Rumple.

Bae started laughing so hard cider came out his nose. He grabbed a dishcloth sitting beside the tea pot and shoved it over his face. "Oh, gods! I'm going to die!"

Granny whacked him helpfully on the back. "Breathe, boy," she said, snickering a bit herself.

Clary frowned at her big brother. "Hey! It ain't funny, Bae! If _you_ was havin' a baby, I bet you wouldn't be laughing. Right, Mama?"

"You're . . . umm . . . absolutely right, sweetie," Belle managed to say, wiping her eyes on her linen napkin.

"That's why I thank the gods every day for not making me a girl," Bae wheezed, his eyes crinkling with merriment. "Where does she come up with this stuff?"

"It's perfectly normal," Belle said, grinning. "All little children imitate their elders. I'll bet you did too when you were her age."

"He did," Rumple said, smirking. "One day Milah found him all tangled up in my yarn, and when she asked him what he was doing, he said he was trying to spin like papa! Luckily I was there to make sure she didn't haul off and smack you one for making a mess though."

"Papa, please!" Bae said, flushing.

"She would have hit him over that?" Granny asked, frowning.

"Milah had no patience with small children," Rumple said.

"She's an evil hag!" Clary added. "She hit Ivy. She oughta be spanked and sent to bed without dessert."

"Got that right, Clary," Bae snickered.

"She sounds like a shrew," Granny said.

"She is," Rumple sighed. "And I thank the gods I'm no longer married to her. Now she's Hook's headache and he can have her!"

"Bae, can I have some cake?" Clary asked then.

"Sure, imp," he said, and cut her a slice and fixed her a cup of tea that was half milk with a sugar lump in it. "Here."

As Clary ate her cake and drank her tea, Bae finished off his sandwich and chips, while Rumple, Belle, and Granny talked, sharing amusing stories about customers Rumple had dealt with at his potions booth and clueless patients Belle had to diagnose and Granny told stories about the strange habits of her old neighbors.

Bae glanced at Clary and said mischievously, "Hey, snippet, I was going to go ride Flicker and ask you to come, but I forgot . . . girls having babies can't ride horses."

Clary jumped off her chair and said, "Wait a minute." Then she walked into the sitting room.

She returned a few moments later, without the pillow. "Okay! I'm ready, Bae!"

"What happened to your baby?" he snickered.

"It got born already!" she rolled her eyes. "It was a girl and her name's Oralia."

"Damn! That was fast," Rumple murmured, hiding a smirk.

Clary ran over and grabbed her brother's hand. "C'mon, Bae! Let's go for a ride."

"Okay, Clary-belle," he obliged, and picked her up and walked out the back door with her, after first putting his empty plate in the sink.

"She's got _him_ well trained!" Granny hooted.

"She's got them all wrapped about her little finger," Belle smiled. "Including her papa."

"Only sometimes," Rumple protested.

"Uh huh," his loving wife snorted. "And I've got some land in the Enchanted Forest for free."

"Belle! I'm not a pushover, like Rufus Miller!"

"Did I say that, darling? No. But you'd wear yourself to a shadow to make her happy, Rum, and well you know it!" She squeezed his hand under the table. "And we all love you for it, dearie."

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Two weeks passed, and during that time Rumple found a strange box left beside the woodpile, and upon inspecting it for curses, found that it was not anything of Regina's making, but a gift instead from the king of the Folk of the Wood. In graceful script it stated that King Ambrosius was very grateful for the care given to his son and this was a token of his appreciation. Inside the box was a glistening suit of silveron mail, a winged hawk helmet, greaves, and a quiver with twenty magically sharp arrows. It was a fine gift, worth a king's ransom, as well it should have been.

But Rumple would have counted it more fitting if the king had come himself to speak with him and thank him himself, as well as show more compassion for his son. But since that was not to be, he took the gift and decided to give the quiver of arrows to Rafe, but only if they needed to defend the castle, because they were battle arrows, and too precious to hunt with. He gave the armor to Bae as his eighteenth birthday present from himself, Belle, Myrnin, and his younger brothers. The girls gave him a new cloak, a shirt, a bag of chocolate drops, and Flicker for his own. Rennie gave him a gold chain with their initials entwined on it.

Bae celebrated his birthday quietly with his family during the day and then went down to the Goose with Charming at night, and also Jefferson. They returned to the castle slightly drunk, in the case of the younger men, and three sheets to the wind in the case of Jefferson. Rumple put them all to bed, though he said to Jeff, "Hells, Jeff, you're not eighteen anymore. What are you doing trying to match those youngsters drink for drink?"

"Aww, shut up, Rum!" Jeff groused, holding his head. "My head hurts."

"You want one of my antidotes?"

"You want me to puke all over your shoes?" Jefferson grumbled.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you did," his friend remarked.

"No thanks. I'll just sleep it off, buddy," Jeff answered.

"Take this with you," Rumple said, handing him a small bucket. "Just in case."

"Yeah, thanks, Dad," Jeff said sarcastically, then took the bucket and retreated to his room.

The next morning all three slept late, woke up and had black coffee and toast, and Charming and Bae were fine afterwards. Jeff, however, looked like death warmed over until two in the afternoon, and grumbled to Rumple, "I should have known better than to belt shots with those young snots down at the Goose."

"I hate to say this, but . . . I told you so," Rumple said.

"Oh, go drown yourself, Rum!" the mercenary sulked, then he drank some of Belle's hangover remedy.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Meanwhile, in the Mystic Wood, the _il'Shennara_, led by Prince Arion and King Ambrosius, launched a major offensive attack, the largest one attempted by either side during the course of the war. Due to Puck and Myrnin's reconnaissance, they managed to discover where the bulk of the _dwarrow_ holed up during the day, as they couldn't bear the touch of sunlight, it blinded and weakened them, made them dizzy and unable to cast spells and their weapons turned to dust if the sun touched them for more than an hour.

That discovery was the turning point of the war, and led to a major victory, one that almost spelled the end of things for the night elves, as they were taken by surprise and most of their army wiped out, save for those who managed to sneak away, sick and shaking, to hide in the caves farther north. Some of the night elves, the ones who were not with the main encampment, were still free to harass the _il'Shennera_, but by and large a telling blow had been struck, and Ambrosius counted it a great victory.

He brought Gliringlass back into the timestream then, and the Folk of the Wood returned to the city to feast and dance and celebrate, toasting the king, his sons, and everyone in the army.

Myrnin joined in the celebrations, though he was careful not to indulge too much in the flowing wine at the king's table, like any magic wielder, he knew well the perils of too much alcohol. His brother, however, drank a few toasts, but then Arion had always been more warrior than mage. Even so, the crown prince didn't get very tipsy, nor did the king.

But soon the noise and motion grated on Myrnin's nerves and he retreated to a quiet spot near the Aspen Manse, there to contemplate the stars and the patrol he'd lead in the next day or so, making sure most of the _dwarrow_ were far from Gliringlass. He sat with his legs dangling over the walkway, gazing out at the stars and clasping Ivy's ring, hoping that afterwards he could sneak off and see her again, now that his father was busy reorganizing the city.

He was extremely glad the war was almost over, but his heart was not really in the victory celebrations like the rest of his people. No, his heart was far away, with a certain clever sorceress, and he felt as if he watched the feasting from afar, an observer and not a participant, for all he had helped bring the victory about with his spying.

_Soon, a'liri, I can come back. In a few more days, then I'll ask Arion for leave and I can come home to you._

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Two evenings later found Myrnin, Puck, and four others of a long range patrol on the border of the Mystic Wood close to the Enchanted Forest kingdom. Some of their dark kin had been spotted near there and Arion had sent Myrnin, Puck, and some their more experienced scouts to find out why. After their defeat, most of the night elves were scattered, trying to regroup but finding it difficult, and Arion wished to make certain no large force ever got back together again to threaten their people.

The _il'Shennara_ scouts were mounted on royal pegasi, the winged horses used by the kingsguard, and they had flown there on their backs. Now they observed from a safe vantage point just above the sweeping purple hill country that marked the border of the Enchanted Forest realm, which despite its name, was not all forest, the way the _il'Shennara's_ territory in the Mystic Wood was.

Myrnin had cast a veil of unseeing about himself and the patrol, so they could watch what went on and not risk taking an arrow in the head or getting slammed by a fireball from one of the _dwarrow_ mages, who called themselves Nightlords.

As they watched quietly, they saw a company of night elves, about one hundred strong, including a dark priest with his dragon skull helmet and four Nightlords wearing the traditional crimson robes of their order, ride out alongside the company commander, straight through the Mystic Wood's border and into the purple hills.

"What are they doing?" Puck asked Myrnin, his slanted eyes grave in his youthful face.

"It looks like they're headed into the Enchanted Forest," Myrnin replied.

"But why?" asked Irilyn, one of his scouts, her blue eyes puzzled. "What business do the _dwarrow_ have with humans?"

Myrnin frowned. "Perhaps they go to meet with that kingdom's monarch. I've heard she practices necromancy and blood magic. Her name is Regina, and she usurped the throne from the rightful heir, Princess Snow White. If anyone would make alliance with the night elves, it's she."

"For what purpose?" Puck wondered.

"Nothing good, that's certain," Myrnin said.

They watched as the last of the night elves disappeared over the brow of the purple hills, and just as Myrnin was about to signal them to turn about, they saw something else astonishing.

A party of seven dwarves and a young man dressed in the green and brown clothing of a huntsman had entered the Mystic Wood, not ten feet from where the _dwarrow_ had been previously.

"Starlight and shadows!" exclaimed another scout, called Therin. "First the _dwarrow_ go to humans and now dwarves and a human enter our borders. What should we do, my prince?"

Myrnin thought fast. "They don't seem dangerous. Perhaps they are seeking to flee that crazy witch. In any case, we should warn them about the _dwarrow. _I'll go and talk with them. Puck, come with me."

"Talk with them, Prince Merlin?" asked Falithzar, the oldest of the scouts. "What for?"

"So they don't go blundering into a _dwarrow's_ ambush!" Myrnin snapped. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, you know what they do to those they catch. Remember Shaleesha?"

"Yes, my prince," Falithzar murmured, recalling how the _dwarrow_ had captured one of the scouts in their company prior to the great battle and done horrible things to her. It had taken her days to die, and they had only found her when their dark kin were finished with their twisted fun, as she breathed her last, broken and shattered by dark spells and torture.

"Stay here. We won't be long," Myrnin told them, and then he turned his pegasus, Stormrider, and flew across the twenty five feet that separated him from the dwarves and the huntsman.

Puck followed on his pegasus, Snowdrop, an arrow nocked on his bowstring, just in case.

Myrnin landed a few feet before the dwarven party, bidding Stormrider to stay and dismounting, unslinging his bow from his back and holding an arrow in his free hand. Then he made his way through the trees, silent as a ghost. Puck followed suit, shadowing his prince.

Myrnin and Puck waited calmly beneath the trees on the trail the dwarves were taking through them, wincing at how loud they were. They could hear every creak, groan, and stomp of their booted feet as they made their way through the trees.

A large dwarf with a black beard and curly black hair emerged from the trees, carrying a large pick axe over his shoulder. He was followed by six more, looking similar but with different colored hair and accompanying them was a young man with brown hair and a slight mustache on his upper lip, looking to be about twenty, as near as Myrnin could figure it. The man had a yew bow on his back and a hunting knife in a sheath.

"I'm telling you, Grumpy, she's calling in all her reserves for some kind of strike force. She must have found out where the princess is and is gathering an army to get her back," said the huntsman.

"She doesn't want her back, Graham!" snorted the black-haired dwarf. "She wants her dead!"

"But where's she taking her army? Into another kingdom?" asked a dwarf with reddish hair.

"She can't do that, Happy! It'd be a declaration of war," objected another dwarf, this one with white hair.

"Like she cares, Doc!" snorted another with brown hair.

"She's not the only thing you have to worry about, friend," said Myrnin, dropping his glamourie and becoming visible to the dwarves and the huntsman for the first time.

They jumped back, startled at his sudden appearance.

"What . . . who the hell are you?" Graham snapped, drawing his bow.

But before he could even set an arrow to the string, Puck had his bow drawn and said evenly, "Put it away, boy. We aren't your enemies. We've come to warn you of something we saw not twenty yards from here."

"Who are you?" Graham cried, lowering his hands.

"We are _il'Shennara_ scouts," Myrnin answered. "We were patrolling this stretch of the wood when we saw a company of our dark kin near here."

"You saw _dwarrow_ here?" gasped the brown haired dwarf.

"Yes, and not only saw, but tracked them to see where they were going," Myrnin said.

"Where are they?" murmured one dwarf, who then yawned and glanced around fearfully.

"They've gone down into the hills," Puck replied. "But we don't know why, as they are no fonder than most of us of humans."

"How many?" asked Grumpy.

"About a hundred, complete with dark priest and Nightlords—ah—you would say necromancers," Myrnin informed them.

"Great gods! What are they doing, attacking Regina?" asked Graham.

"No, boy. If I had to guess, I'd say they were _joining_ her," spat Grumpy. "Like calls to like, eh?"

"It is what we fear as well," Puck said gravely.

"Regina's allying herself with night elves?" Graham repeated. "What the hell for?"

"Maybe she needs help finding Snow White," stammered a dwarf with a wispy beard and large brown eyes.

"Or maybe she's found where Snow is and needs help defeating whoever's helping her," said a quiet dwarf, then he sneezed several times.

"I know where Snow White is," Myrnin said suddenly.

The dwarves all gasped and stared at him. "H-How do you know that?" squeaked one.

"Yeah, who are you that you'd know that?" demanded Graham suspiciously.

"He is Prince Merlin Emrys Valerion Stormshadow of the _il'Shennara_, warrior and sorcerer of the royal house, boy!" Puck growled. "Now show some respect!"

All of the dwarves bowed and doffed their caps, and Graham looked flustered and bowed also, muttering, "Sorry, my lord."

Myrnin shot Puck an irritated glance. "Starseekers, Puck! You sound like a farmer whose pet chicken just got insulted. Please, don't bow to me. I'm not your ruler. I came here to warn you about my dark kin, so you didn't walk into an ambush."

"But how do you know Snow, Your Highness?" asked Grumpy.

"Because she is staying with my mentor, Rumplestiltskin Gold, at his castle," Myrnin replied. "I saw her there not three weeks past. He has given her sanctuary."

Graham stared at him. "You must be mistaken! She would never ask sanctuary from the Dark One!"

Myrnin's eyes flashed, and he reached out and grabbed the youth by his tunic collar, hauling him onto his toes and snarling, "Watch how you talk about my mentor, huntsman! He's no dark sorcerer! Say such filth again and I'll make you walk home on four feet instead of two, got me?"

"My prince, _silaesha_!" Puck cried, coming forward to lay a hand on Myrnin's shoulder. "Myrnin, _alt velath mar!" _(My prince, easy! Myrnin,let him go!)

"Not till he apologizes for calling Archmagus Gold a dark sorcerer!" Myrnin snarled, his hand twisting on Graham's collar, half-choking the other youth.

"Okay! Okay!" gasped the huntsman. "I'm sorry! Now, please . . . let me breathe!"

Myrnin released his hold on the other's collar, saying, "He was under a curse, he's not now. He's no necromancer. That's the witch yonder!" he spat.

Graham rubbed his throat. "Gods, how was I supposed to know? All I ever heard were stories about the Dark One."

"You should find out facts before you go accusing good men of being Nightlords," Myrnin snapped. Then he subsided when Puck clasped his shoulder. "Sorry, I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I just don't like people talking like that about him. I owe him my life and more."

"If she's at his castle, then it's no wonder Regina's gathering allies," murmured Doc. "She'll need them if she's going to go up against the likes of him."

"Would she dare?" asked Sneezy.

"She'd dare anything, that one," Grumpy said darkly.

"How can we be sure?" asked Bashful.

"Go and find out," Puck said quietly. "Can you do that?"

"We're fugitives," said Sleepy, yawning. "With prices on our heads."

"What for?" asked Myrnin.

"'Cause we refused to declare Regina the rightful ruler of the kingdom," said Graham. "We all know who the true ruler is, and it isn't her! So we're in rebellion against her. Technically, I'm not even a real subject of hers, though I lived here for a time with my mother. She was the one who explained to me about the rightful laws of succession, she was a chambermaid to the old queen, Snow's mother. Once the old queen died, Regina dismissed all her ladies and servants and put her own in their place. That was when my mother married Martin Archer, a sellsword and archer in the company called the Card Captors. My name's Graham Hunter, though it might as well be Archer, as my stepdad raised me since I was three. We traveled all over with his company, until my mother took ill last year and she came back here to recover."

"Did she?" asked Puck softly.

"No," Graham said sadly. "But before she died, she made me promise to always stand up for truth and justice. So that's what I'm doing now, keeping my promise."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Myrnin said. Then he exclaimed, "But . . . isn't that Captain Alice's company?"

"Why, yes, it is. I wrote to my stepfather a few months back and he said they're wintering in Attica, because Alice just signed on a new lieutenant, Jefferson Hatter, one of the best mercs in the business, and they're staying in the village called Valley Way."

"Valley Way is right below the Dark Castle," Myrnin said. "And Jeff and Alice are friends of my mentor and his wife, Lady Belle."

"Belle? Of Avonlea?" Graham gasped.

"She was before she married Rumplestiltskin," Myrnin said.

"I . . . I used to know her and her family . . . before Avonlea was destroyed. Her son, Rafe . . . he used to come and have lessons with my dad in archery. We used to shoot targets together," Graham stammered.

"I know Rafe. We've hunted together. And once I saved him after a stag gored him in the leg," said the half-elf. "He's Rum's adopted son now."

Graham chuckled. "That's amazing!"

"The gods work in mysterious ways, younglings," said Puck. "They put you in each other's path for a reason."

"Can you go back into the Enchanted Forest?" Myrnin queried. "See what my dark cousins and Regina are up to?"

"Well . . . if I'm seen it'll mean my head, but . . . yeah, I can see what the talk is around the city," Graham said.

"No! It's too dangerous!" objected Happy. "You could be killed, Graham!"

"Not if he's not seen," Myrnin said. "I'll cast a glamourie on you, so you'll be able to walk unseen, like one of my people. Then you can go and find out what's going on."

"Let's do it!" Graham said, his eyes shining. "Right now."

"No. You need to wait," Myrnin disagreed. "Until my dark cousins get to wherever they're going. Then you can go in. If they spot you, my glamourie won't hold, since they can see through it, just like we can theirs. Our magics are similar."

"Okay. So I'll wait . . . till the next morning," Graham said. "Then I'll go in. Will your spell last that long?"

"It'll last as long as I want it to," Myrnin smirked. "I could cast glamourie when I was four. Stand still." He placed his hands on Graham's shoulders, then drew them down his body in one swift motion.

Blue sparks gathered and wove themselves through the air and then faded.

"That's it?" Graham looked down at himself. "I don't feel any different."

"You won't. But when you need to hide, you'll be able to walk unseen," Myrnin said.

"My prince, we need to be going. The others will be wondering where we are," Puck reminded him.

"Yes, all right!" Myrnin sighed. "I'll meet you back here at . . . mid-afternoon?"

"That's fine. I should have found something out by then," Graham nodded. "Thanks, my lord."

"Call me Myrnin," he corrected. "All my friends do."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Myrnin," Graham said.

"Farewell," called Puck, then they vanished into the trees.

Graham whistled then turned to Doc and said, "Hells bells, won't my dad be shocked to hear I've been keeping company with elven princes now? First I was Rafe's playmate and now I'm not only a rabble rouser but an elf-friend."

"You just be careful, boy. Getting involved with elves is a tricky dangerous business," Grumpy growled.

"Like anything else we've been doing isn't?" Graham asked, rolling his eyes. "Come on, we'd better find a place to camp, then get some sleep. I've got to get up early tomorrow."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"What did you find out?" asked Myrnin the next afternoon, as he met Graham on the same stretch of trail.

"A lot. There's rumors flying all over the place," Graham said. "And none of them are good, at least from my perspective."

"What are they saying?"

"That Regina's made an alliance with demons. Guess that's your dark cousins. And she's also got a former noble from Avonlea joining her with his own private guard company, Sir Gaston, who used to be married to Princess Belle, before she caught him cheating on her and divorced his ass. Plus whoever else she can grab from her own kingdom to fight for her. Including those filthy pirates, Captain Hook and First Mate Milah. A couple hundred at least she's got. They're supposed to start marching in three or four day's time."

Myrnin looked horrified. "She's bringing all of _that_ against Rumplestiltskin?"

"Looks that way. Guess she really wants Snow dead. And her former advisor, Jeff Hatter, too."

Myrnin shook his head. "Starseekers! He's going to need help. I've got to talk to my father."

"Your father? The king of the Folk of the Wood?"

"Last time I checked. Thanks for the warning. Oh, and the glamourie will wear off in another few days."

"Wait a minute! Where are you going?"

"I told you, to try and talk sense into my stubborn father's hide. And if you really want to help your princess, better move your ass and get to the Dark Castle," Myrnin said sharply.

Before Graham could say anything, he was gone, disappeared like smoke into the trees.

"Damn! I wish I could do that!" the huntsman muttered. Then he went to find the dwarves.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Gliringlass_

_The Aspen Manse_

_King Ambrosius' private audience chamber:_

"Father, if you have a moment, I need to speak with you," Myrnin said, keeping his tone even and respectful. He stood a few feet beyond the silvery aspen wood desk in his father's chambers, the ones that only family were allowed in. He had managed to take a bath and change into a new uniform before going to see the king, who was currently looking over some maps and plans drawn up by his generals.

Ambrosius looked up at his son, a look of faint annoyance crossing his ageless youthful face. Like all _il'Shennara_, he appeared to be a mere twenty-five years of age, though in reality he was much older, closer to three hundred, though still young for one of his kind. His long blond hair, the color of aspen leaves in the fall, was bound back by a simple diadem of gold with a single black diamond in it. His pointed ears had crystal drops in them and his emerald eyes were sharp and inscrutable. He wore a simple robe of blue velvet sprinkled with diamond dust, and a pendant with his house crest—an eternity knot wrapped around an aspen tree with a lightning bolt behind it—hung on his neck.

"Can't it wait till later, Myrnin? I need to plan the defense of the city, just in case the _dwarrow_ try and attack us again," he said, his voice clear and cold, like frost melt.

"Father, I need to report something I saw on my last scout."

Ambrosius set down his emerald green quill. "All right. What is it?"

Myrnin coughed. "Sorry, my throat's dry."

"Here. Have some winterberry juice," Ambrosius poured some into one of his chased silver goblets and floated it over to his son.

Myrnin drank it down, then began telling the king about what they had seen on the scout and who he believed the _dwarrow_ were allying themselves with now.

Ambrosius frowned. "And this . . . huntsman you spoke with . . . are you sure he wasn't just spinning you a tale? Sometimes humans find it hard to distinguish fact from fiction."

"I'm sure, Father. Graham wouldn't lie about this. And now Regina and our dark cousins are going to attack the Dark Castle. We have to try and stop them. Or . . . or at least send a company of scouts and archers, maybe even a few home guard if you think we can spare—"

"Stop," the king ordered abruptly. "Myrnin, are you out of your head? Why would you think I have any soldiers to spare to send to the aid of this . . this human conjurer? You know we don't get involved in the affairs of humans."

"But Father! This is different!" Myrnin cried. "It involves our dark cousins too! We're sworn to fight them."

"Which we've been doing for months, young one. And now that we've finally gained ground against them, you want me to get my soldiers involved in a skirmish that's none of my concern?" Ambrosius scowled.

"It _is_ your concern, Father! Archmagus Gold and his wife saved my life!" Myrnin snapped. "_They_ were the human family who gave me shelter and nursed me back to health. Without them I'd be dead now. You owe them, Father!"

"I've already paid my debt to them, child," Ambrosius declared maddeningly. "I owe them nothing more. And neither do you."

"What?" Myrnin gaped at him. "They need our help and you're going to just . . . sit here? At least let me go warn them."

"No. I don't want you involved any longer with these humans. This conversation is over, Myrnin. Go and get some sleep, or practice with your bow." He waved a hand in dismissal.

Myrnin's eyes flashed. "No. Father, you have to listen to me! They've got an _army coming _to annihilate them. I can't let that happen. They're my friends—"

"_Friends?_ You're a prince of the _il'Shennara_! I forbid it." Ambrosius' eyes turned glacial.

"You can't, Father! Not only am I friends with them, I'm in love with Ivy Gold, an enchantress, Rumplestiltskin's daughter," Myrnin snapped.

The king stared at his son in horror. Then he rose and came around the desk. "No! What the blazes are you saying? You're bewitched! You can't be in love with a human girl!"

"Why not, sir? _You_ were."

Ambrosius flinched. "That's different. I already had an heir, I could afford to indulge myself."

Myrnin glared at him. "Is that all my mother was to you, Father? An indulgence? Just a passing fancy?"

"You watch how you talk to me, boy!" his father snapped. "What was between your mother and me is something you could never understand. I want you to forget this girl, she can never be yours. It's impossible. This is why I never wanted you to get involved with humans. They bring trouble, they always have."

"I'm half-human, Father. Are you saying I'm trouble too?"

"Gods of the wood, boy, you're more trouble than you're worth sometimes!"

"I'm sure Mother would have loved to hear you say that," Myrnin said bitingly, his father's words cutting him to the bone. "Or aren't you counting her among the other humans you're content to let rot? Where's your honor now? Or do you only have honor where it concerns us?"

"Damn you!" the king snarled, his eyes blazing. His hand lashed out, and smacked his son hard across the face. "Get out! Let the humans solve their own problems. That's the way it's always been."

Myrnin staggered, one hand going to his cheek. "No, Father. That's how _you've_ always been. But I refuse to shut myself off from everyone and everything, like you have. The Golds have been nothing but kind to me, and now when they need my help, you just expect me to turn my back on them? Well, I won't! They at least deserve the courtesy of a warning."

Ambrosius' fists clenched. "You wretched whelp! You want to wallow in filth with your human friends, fine! Go! But don't think your defiance doesn't come with a price, Merlin! If you leave here and go against my dictates, we're through! I cast you from my House. You're no longer my son, no longer _il'Shennara_. There is no Prince Merlin any longer. You will be dead to us, exiled forever."

Myrnin glazed at him, feeling as if he looked upon a stranger. "You would exile me? Your own son? For helping those who saved me?"

"No son of mine would choose to defy me and associate with a human family the way you have. Either you do as I bid you or leave and go live with that common sorcerer and his riffraff family. You're a disgrace to my Name!"

Myrnin's jaw clenched. "That common sorcerer, Father, has shown more concern for me in two months than you have in fourteen years! I cannot abandon him now. My honor—the honor of a half-blood—won't permit it."

"Then take your honor and get out of my sight! We're done! Merlin Emrys Valerion Stormshadow is no more!" Ambrosius yelled.

"Farewell then, king of the _il'Shennara_," Myrnin snarled. "I've never really belonged among you anyway. But I just have one question before I go. Why the hell did my mother ever marry you?"

"Get _out!"_ the king shouted, and lifted his hand.

Magic flashed from his palm and would have tossed Myrnin out the door like a piece of trash, but the boy quickly deflected it away with one hand, sending the papers flying off the king's desk and about the room in a whirlwind gust.

"Your technique needs work, Ambrosius," Myrnin said impudently to the astonished elven king, before he turned and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

His heart cold within him, Myrnin strode down the corridor towards his rooms. No one was about, which was fine with him. He would rather not encounter anyone right now. He reached his private quarters and nodded to the guard on duty at the end of the corridor. Then he entered his suite.

He dragged his rucksack out from behind the door and began hastily packing all the clothes he wished to take with him. He'd be damned if he'd show up again at the Dark Castle like a vagabond, despite the fact that he had now been declared exiled by the king.

He had almost finished packing when there came a knock on his door. "What is it?" he half-growled, feeling his magic prickle and stir within him.

"You sound as cross as a bear with a thorn in its paw, Myrnin. Did you and Father quarrel again?"

Myrnin looked up to see his brother Arion lounging against the doorjamb, his green eyes sparkling with gentle humor. "Can't you tell? I'm leaving."

"Where'd he send you this time? Somewhere pretty far from Gliringlass by the amount of things you're taking," his brother observed. Like their father, Arion had the golden hair and tanned skin of the _il'Shennara_, but his face was more expressive and mobile, and his eyes were never cold.

"He's sent me somewhere I'm not going to return from," Myrnin said softly. "He's exiled me, Ari."

"_What_? This is some kind of joke, right?" Arion gasped. "You're having one on me, good one, Myrnin."

Myrnin pulled the strings of his pack tight and looked at his brother for the last time. He shook his head slowly, realizing then that there was one other person he truly cared about in Gliringlass, and he would never see him again after today. "No. That's the whole reason I'm leaving."

"Stars and shadows, Myrnin! What the blazes happened in there? I heard him yelling and I thought . . . well . . . I know how you two can go at it sometimes, but . . . gods of the wood have mercy! What the hell?"

"I asked him for a favor, Arion. I asked him to help the Golds . . . and he refused me."

"What else? Did he find out about . . . your _a'liri?"_

"Yes. I told him myself."

"Gods! You couldn't have waited?"

"For what, Ari? It was never going to go well, you know that. I knew that from the first moment I danced with her on midsummer's eve. But I'll be damned if I'll put my heart in a cage for the likes of him. He's a hypocrite, Arion! He forbids me to ever see the woman I love because she's not _il'Shennara_, yet he married one! And had me. And he refuses to help the family that protected and saved me all those months ago why? Because of some stupid edict he created himself? He'd rather let the Golds be destroyed than admit he's wrong! Well, to hell with him then! Let him exile me, I don't give a damn!"

Arion paled. "Myrnin, no. He's just upset, you know his temper . . . hell, little brother, you've inherited more than your share of it, that's why you butt heads so much . . . don't go. Just stay tonight, let him cool off. He's always more reasonable in the morning . . ."

"Arion . . . I have to go. The Golds are in danger and I can't let them be caught by surprise. Not for him, not for anyone. I owe them more than I can ever repay. He's already declared me outcast."

"I'll talk to him. He listens to me," his brother said, a desperate note in his voice.

"He doesn't need me anymore, Ari. I've done what a good prince should do and served my people, been decorated in battle, and now it's time for me to go back into the shadows and be an obedient puppet. But I won't do that anymore. I deserve better than that. I deserve to be _wanted_, dammit! And he never has wanted me, and you know it."

"Myrnin, please! Whatever he said to you . . . he's an idiot! Don't listen to him, kid. This is your home . . ."

"No, it isn't, Ari. And it hasn't been, not for a long time." He slung his pack over his back and then his quiver and his bow.

Arion looked crushed. "Myrnin, damn you! I said I'll talk to him!"

"It won't do any good. It never has. It's better this way. My heart belongs there, with her and with the Gold sorcerer. They understand me, Ari. More, they actually love me, the way he never has. This is the path I've chosen."

His brother sighed. "I've never understood why he's always been so distant with you. I tried so many times to get him to . . . I don't know . . . be the way he is with me . . . I never wanted to steal him away from you . . ."

"You think I blame you for any of this? Arion! He's a cold bastard to me, I've never thought you had anything to do with it. He put his heart in the grave with my mother . . . and I'm just the reminder of her, something he'd rather forget. Now he can. Don't waste your breath on him. Just let it go, okay?"

"This is really what you want, isn't it?" Arion asked quietly.

"It's not how I would have liked to leave, but yeah, this is my choice, in a way."

"Then go with my blessing, little brother," Arion whispered, his green eyes shimmering with tears. "Go follow your heart." Then he caught an astonished Myrnin in a bear hug, crushing the slender boy to him. "I'll miss you. If you ever need me, send a messege."

"Arion, I'm supposed to be dead to you," Myrnin said, his voice muffled by his brother's triple spun silk tunic.

"Screw that! You remember what I said."

"Okay. I will. Now put me down. You're smothering me."

Arion released him. "Shade and sweet water, and may you find rest at your journey's end," he said, giving him the traditional farewell of their people among families forced to part.

Myrnin smiled sadly. "Thanks, Arion. You take care of yourself now. And tell Puck . . . hell, he'll know where I am."

"You're not going to tell him?"

"Hell, no. He might tie me up and make me stay here," Myrnin said wryly. "He'll know where I've gone if he wants to visit. Shade and sweet water, Arion."

Then he hugged his brother one last time and walked away, knowing he had to leave the Aspen Manse before using any spells of transportation, as the house was warded against such magics for the protection of the royal family.

Arion stared after him, silent tears trickling down his face. "Gods damn you, Father!" he swore softly. Then he whispered, "Good luck, little brother, and may you know peace at last."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Myrnin debated about taking his pegasus with him, but in the end decided against it. Stormrider was his to use, but technically he belonged to the royal house, and Myrnin wanted nothing the king owned. He exited the Aspen Manse and crossed rapidly to the small set of stairs that he and Arion had always used when they wanted to sneak away from their tutors for an afternoon. They were servant stairs and therefore not guarded like the main entrances were to and from the treetops.

He went quickly down it and then was among the lower reaches of Gliringlass, where the poorer wood elves dwelled and also the armorers and weaponsmiths. Myrnin paused and looked back once at the beautiful city among the trees, the Heart of the Wood, and bid it a silent farewell. Then he hitched his pack upon his shoulder and concentrated, picturing his destination in his mind.

The transportation spell would take him outside of the city proper, into a small section of the Mystic Wood, and from there he would use another spell to get to the Dark Castle, as it was too far away for him to transport directly.

He blinked away, vanishing in a heartbeat.

To reappear in a small glade some ways away. He paused to get his breath, feeling slightly dizzy, as sometimes the spell took him like that. He leaned against the trunk of an elm tree, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

When a black arrow shot out of the trees and struck him in the shoulder.

Reeling, he gasped, one hand going to the shaft, knowing even as he did so that it was too late to pull it free, that the green spider venom was already coursing through him. For that was what all the night elves coated their arrows with.

"Hello, _il'Shennara _scum!" laughed a cold voice, and a _dwarrow_ Nightlord stepped from the trees, followed by some thirty more of his war band.

Myrnin felt sick. He had not bothered to check this area, figuring himself safe. But he had walked right into a night elf ambush. With the poison in him, and his right arm out of commission, he knew he was vulnerable. Shaking his head, he conjured a shield and then tossed a few explosive energy balls at the oncoming night elves.

It would slow them down some. But not enough.

He saw some of the _dwarrow_ fall, writhing to the ground, but the Nightlord blocked his cast and smirked cruelly at him.

"I'm going to enjoy skinning you, boy," he said, lifting his hand to cast.

Gripping his shoulder, feeling waves of nausea and burning pain shooting through him, Myrnin concentrated on keeping his shield up. He only prayed he could deflect whatever the Nightlord chose to cast at him.

As he did so, he recalled something Rumplestiltskin had said to him. _If you ever need me, call me._

Gritting his teeth, Myrnin whispered, "Gods of the wood, help me." Then he yelled, "Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin!"

The Nightlord's laughter echoed in his ears and he felt the shock of a dark spell slam against his shield as the world tilted like crazy before his eyes.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple was bottling potions in his lab when he felt the tug of the summoning spell. Immediately he closed his eyes, trying to determine where the pull was coming from and if it was a legitimate call for help or a mere prank by some mischievous children, for sometimes that had been the case in the past.

He Saw in his mind's eye a clearing in the woods, and a lone figure surrounded by night elves, with only a flickering blue shield of magic keeping them at bay.

"Myrnin!" he cried. "Hang on, lad!"

He transported himself away, letting the summoning draw him to where the boy was trapped among his dark kin.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumplestiltskin burst into the clearing, appearing among the night elves like a comet from the heavens, his hands shooting blasts of concussive magical force that smashed into five of their number, throwing them about like ragdolls.

One blast caught the Nightlord and flung the dark sorcerer against a tree so hard his neck snapped in half along with his spine. He was dead before he even knew what had hit him.

Before the dust had even settled, Rumple was casting again, taking advantage of the chaos his arrival had caused among the _dwarrow_. The earth trembled and split apart before his feet, swallowing ten night elves in rapid succession. At the same time thunder boomed and lightning crackled as he called on the powers of air and hurricane force gusts slammed into more night elves, picking them up like child's toys and sending them careening through the air to smash into trees, shattered and broken.

Several of them tried to shoot him with their poisoned arrows and attack him with their obsidian blades or throw magical knives at him, but he lifted a hand and they bounced away from him. Then he called fire in a blistering swath and incinerated all the night elves before him, unleashing all the power of a Master of Elements upon the wicked creatures.

Within minutes the twenty-six _dwarrow_ that had surrounded Myrnin were nothing more than dust upon the wind. He made a motion with a hand and the earth sealed itself and the storm he had summoned dispersed. The sky was once more tranquil, though the earth was scorched and burnt in a thirty foot radius around the sorcerer.

Rumple turned and ran over to where Myrnin was slumped against an elm tree. "Myrnin! Gods!" he swore as he saw the black arrow sticking out from the boy's shoulder. He closed his hand about the shaft and willed the arrow to be banished.

It disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

"Rum . . ." Myrnin hissed.

"I'm here, son." Rumple knelt, hugging the injured boy close. "You're going to be okay."

" . . . poison arrow . . ." Myrnin moaned softly.

Rumple went cold upon hearing those words. He didn't know how long the boy had before the poison reached his heart. "Hold on to me, Myrnin. I'm taking you home. Belle will heal you. Hold on. Don't let go."

Picking up the half-comatose boy in his arms, he transported them both back to the Dark Castle, praying he was not too late.

**A/N: Okay, so how did you like all that went on at the Dark Castle with Rum, Belle, Clary, and Granny? What did you think of Myrnin's meeting with Graham? And the final confrontation between Myrnin and his father and brother? Now you've got a taste of just how powerful the Gold sorcerer really is. Hope you liked!**


	57. Defending the Dark Castle

**57**

**Defending the Dark Castle**

The first inkling Belle had that something was wrong was when Rumple appeared in the kitchen with Myrnin in his arms. "Dear gods! What's happened to him?" she cried.

"He's been shot with a poisoned arrow," Rumple said shortly. "I need one of my antidotes from my apothecary chest."

"I'll get it, Papa," Ivy said, and took the key he gave her and raced upstairs. It was at times like this that she wished she could transport herself somewhere instantaneously. But her magic didn't work like that, so she had to make her feet grow wings instead.

She returned with the antidote in mere minutes.

By then her father had placed Myrnin on the kitchen table and was holding him down by his good shoulder. The half-elf was gasping for breath now, his body spasming against Rumple's hands. "Ivy! The potion! Quickly!" he snapped.

"Here!" she shoved the potion into his hands. "Myrnin, dear gods, calm down!" she said, grabbing his hand, praying that her presence could help her stricken beloved.

"Belle, how do I get this down him?" Rumple asked. He had uncapped the vial and managed to pour some on the wound itself.

The potion hissed as it made contact with the poisoned flesh and then the redness and swelling went down.

Myrnin relaxed then, the trembling ceasing. "Help me sit him up, Rum," Belle said.

Rumple managed to get Myrnin half-sitting, the half-elf's head lolled back against his shoulder. "Okay. Now what?"

Belle took a clean straw from her bag and quickly filled it with the potion and trickled it down the boy's throat, stroking it so he swallowed.

As he did so, the blue pallor vanished from his face.

Belle gave him the rest of the potion, stroking his throat each time to make sure it all went down.

It took effect fast, and soon Myrnin was breathing normally again, his skin a normal healthy color.

Ivy sagged against the table in relief when she saw that. "He'll be all right now, won't he, Mom?"

"Yes. Now he just needs plenty of rest and liquids," she said, applying some salve to the puncture and bandaging it.

Before she could call for one of the older boys to help carry him upstairs, Rafe had come into the kitchen. "Hey, Mom, got any of those cherry tarts left? All of a sudden I'm—gods and hells, what's happened to Myrnin?" he cried as he caught sight of the boy on the table.

"He was shot with a poisoned arrow, but we neutralized it with an antidote," Rumple told him. "Now he just needs rest and liquids when he wakes up."

"I'll take him upstairs, Papa," Rafe said, lifting the slender boy in his arms and walking up the staircase.

After they had put Myrnin to bed, Ivy went to return to the kitchen to finish getting supper together, but Rennie said, "You go up and sit with him. I'll finish this."

"Thanks, Ren," Ivy smiled at her elder sister gratefully.

"It's where I'd be if Bae was hurt. Now go!" Rennie said, shooing her away with a dischcloth.

Ivy went back upstairs, to sit beside Myrnin's bed, murmuring to him how much she loved him and wanted him to get better, holding his hand in hers until it was time for supper.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Myrnin awoke he felt woozy and weak, though he knew that was probably an aftereffect of the poison. He felt his shoulder and encountered the white linen bandage Belle had put there. He glanced around, recognizing the blue guest room that he had stayed in before at the castle. On the small night stand was a goblet of water, he managed to sit up and take it in both hands and sip it.

"Ah, good, you're awake finally," Belle said, coming into the room. "How are you feeling, Myrnin?"

He set the goblet on the night stand and smiled at her. "Uh, pretty good since I'm supposed to be dead."

She went and felt his forehead, her hand cool on his skin. "Good. No fever. Do you have any pain in your shoulder? I cleaned that arrow puncture out as best I could after we poured the potion on it, but they tend to fester, so I'll need to do it again about two times a day. Do you feel nauseous, have headaches, is your vision blurry?"

"No, Belle. I'm just kind of dizzy and I feel like my bones have been turned to mush," he told her.

"That's probably a side effect of the poison. It should go away once you've rested. Drink all that water for me, you need liquids. I'm going to bring you up some herbal infused chicken broth, Ivy made a batch this evening."

"What time is it?"

"Close to midnight, you've slept about five hours. Everyone else is asleep except me and Rum, and I'm surprised he isn't in here checking on you like he's been doing the past three hours," Belle said.

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, then the sorcerer appeared in the doorway. "Belle, is he awake yet?"

"Come and see for yourself," she beckoned to her husband.

"Hello, Rum," Myrnin greeted the Gold sorcerer.

"Myrnin, lad, you gave me a fright for a moment there," Rumple said, coming to stand next to the bed. "That poisoned arrow is nasty business."

"Yeah, like most things my dark cousins use," the half-elf said. "You saved me again, didn't you?"

"You could say that. How are you feeling?"

Myrnin told him, inbetween drinking the water. He finished the goblet and Belle refilled it from the pitcher next to it. He began drinking again, saying, "Gods, I'm so thirsty."

"That's probably another side effect," Belle surmised. "Good, because I want you to drink as much water as possible, so it can help flush any remaining poison from your system. You'll probably be back and forth to the bathroom for much of tonight, sort of like I am," she said wryly. "So you just tell Rum and he'll help you."

Myrnin nodded.

"Do you need to go now?" his mentor queried.

"Umm . . . yes. But I have to tell you something really important."

"You can do that after. Come on, lad."

Rumple lent Myrnin his cane and helped him walk, letting the boy lean on him as they made their way to the blue bathroom, which was right next door.

"Gods, but I feel weak as a newborn kitten," the boy sighed as he returned to lie on the bed again.

"You should get your strength back after a day or so," Belle said, fluffing the pillows behind his head.

"Now what did you want to talk about?" Rumple asked.

So Myrnin told him about seeing the night elves going into the Enchanted Forest, meeting the dwarves and Graham and finding out that Regina had allied herself with them and with several others, including Gaston, Hook, and Milah. "She's got an army coming here, Rum. That's why I had to come back, to warn you. I tried to talk my father into helping you, but he . . . he refused. We quarreled, he wanted me to just stay in Gliringlass and mind my own business but I told him that what happens to you _is_ my business."

"I take it he wasn't pleased to hear that?" Rumple said.

"No. He told me either I do what he wanted, which was stay away, or else I could leave. He . . . exiled me, Rum. Told me I was no longer his son, that I was dead to him. But I don't give a damn! I don't! He can go to hell," Myrnin half-growled, feeling the sudden prickle of tears behind his eyes.

Both Rumple and Belle looked shocked upon hearing that. "Gods, that's terrible!" Belle said sympathetically. "How could he do that to his own son?"

"Because I don't mean anything to him," Myrnin said bitterly.

Rumple sat on the bed and patted his good shoulder. "Ah, that's a hard thing, lad. He's a fool."

"Don't I know it," Myrnin snorted. "I'm better off without him." Once again he felt the sting of tears behind his eyes.

"You can stay here as long as you like," Rumple said then. "But you know that, don't you?"

The half-elf nodded, swallowing sharply. "At least this time I brought clothes," he joked lightly, blinking hard. "And I can help with the castle defenses."

"I'd appreciate that," Rumple said sincerely. "Belle, sweetheart, why don't you go to sleep for awhile? I'll stay here with him."

"All right, Rum. I am sort of sleepy. Drink enough water, Myrnin."

"Yes, ma'am," he said obediently, sniffling suddenly, as she departed.

Rumple turned to him then and said calmly, "My shoulder's available if you need it, son."

"I . . . I don't. Why should I let him make me feel bad? _He's_ the one who kicked me out. Over his stupid pride, the stubborn ass! He ought to feel guilty as hell. My mother's probably thinking about coming back from the afterworld and haunting him. I almost . . . expected this . . . he's been looking for an excuse for a long time, probably, to get rid of his wayward unwanted son . . .and I just provided him with one," Myrnin babbled, feeling a sudden surge of anger amidst the threatened tears. "I never really belonged there, I've always known that . . . so it doesn't really make a difference . . ." Tears welled up in his eyes then. Abruptly he dashed his sleeve across his face. "What the hell's wrong with me?"

"The same thing that was wrong with me when my father left," Rumple answered. "I hated that bastard and I was glad he was gone, but after he left I sat there and bawled my eyes out. Do you know why? Because it meant that now there was no chance to ever change his mind, even though I knew damn well he never looked at me as anything save a worthless coward. So long as he was there, I had a chance to prove myself. Gone, I had none. And it's the same with you, lad."

"I hate when you're right!" he half-growled, as tears slipped down his face. This time he didn't attempt to hide them, but buried his face in the sorcerer's shoulder. "Damn him!" he gulped.

Rumple said nothing then, simply held his new charge, his hand gently stroking the raven hair.

As if his touch were a catalyst, the young sorcerer sobbed softly, surrendering to the unacknowledged pain the king had caused, weeping himself hoarse on Rum's shoulder.

Afterwards he just lay there, taking comfort in the other's presence, and knowing that at last he had someone who cared for him alone, who was not, like Puck, chained by duty, and who loved him the way his parent never had.

"Feel better now, son?" asked his mentor.

"Yes, though now my eyes are sore."

Rumple snapped his fingers, then said, "Lie down and put this on them. And drink some more water, because you've probably used up all the moisture in you right now and you need to replenish it." He handed Myrnin a wet handkerchief and helped the boy lie back on the pillows with it over his eyes and sip the goblet of water.

It was strange, the young sorcerer mused as he accepted his mentor's care, normally he would have never made himself so vulnerable, not to anyone, not even Puck, but with Rumple he did not feel ashamed or awkward. Instead he felt comfortable . . . and that was how it should be, he thought. _I am no longer my father's son, but **his** son now. And gods, it feels so good! For once I don't have to be responsible for anyone except myself and I can just be . . . ordinary. Not a prince of the il'Shennara, but just Myrnin, who is loved just because of that, and nothing more._

He finished the water and gazed sleepily up at Rumple. "M'tired," he muttered, sounding like the fourteen-year-old he was, for once.

"I figured as much. Sleep then, lad. I'll be here if you need me."

Myrnin obeyed, drifting off to sleep as Rumple carded his hair, the lost son come home at long last.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The Gold sorcerer remained beside the former elven prince the rest of the night, sometimes dozing himself in the chair by the bed, but mostly awake and pondering what he now had to do to repel Regina and the coming army. He would have to tell Jeff and Alice, of course, and knew he could count on the support of Alice's company. He would also warn Merrin and Bea about the invasion and see if he could set wards over their property to ensure they weren't looted or burned out as was the fate of so many independent estates when an army invaded. He knew that the main focus of Regina's men would be his castle, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be those who thought a little side trip was in order.

He mentally calculated what he needed to do to strengthen the castle defenses and how he might deter the invaders while still making his home safe for his children to be in. He considered briefly sending the children, especially the younger ones, away, but then figured they were safer with him than on the road or elsewhere. He thought too about sending Belle away, but knew she would never leave him, and if the worst happened, he could at least die with her. Not that he planned on dying at all, but that had to be considered, because he was not the immortal being he had been when the curse was on him. Now he was human, one of the strongest sorcerers in all the realms, but he could be killed.

_You want a fight, Regina, then you're going to get one, dearie. A bitter, hard, knock-down drag out fight like you've never seen before in your life! I might not use dark magic, but I'll make you work for every inch of ground, and regret daring to harm me and mine! The magic of the land and this castle is mine to command and I'll not surrender until the last stone is razed to the ground and I lie broken among them. So come, Evil Queen, and see what the Gold sorcerer does to those who cross him!_

Those thoughts warmed him as he sat watch through the wee small hours of the morning, soothing the boy who slept beside him when nightmares made him whimper and stir in his sleep, giving him water when he woke, and a shoulder to lean on back and forth to the bathroom, following Belle's regimen to purge the last of the insidious poison from the youngster's system.

When at last the cock crowed, both Myrnin and Rumple were asleep, until the sun was high in the sky, and woke them by stealing gently across their faces and shining in their eyes.

And when he opened them, the first thing Myrnin saw was Ivy, smiling down at him. "Hey, _a'liri_. I've come home for good."

"Thank all the gods!" she whispered, then she kissed him, a kiss of passion and fire, that made him forget all his regrets and be thankful he was back at last where he belonged.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Plans were drawn up and discussed with Jeff, Alice, Belle, and the children that afternoon and the one that followed, as Rumple brought maps of the castle and spread them out on the dining room table, and they marked off which spots were more vulnerable than others and what they could do to halt an enemy's progress.

One good thing about the castle was that it had been built to withstand a siege such as the one they would be facing, and had fresh water cisterns built deep underground, so the family would never worry about a lack of water, if it came down to it. They also had plenty of dried and preserved food in the cellar, so they didn't need to worry about going hungry either, and Bae, Rennie, and Rafe would bring the chickens and some of the sheep into the castle when the invaders were sighted, as well as the smoked meats and cheese.

Another advantage they had was that Rumple and his previously eight children knew the castle blindfolded, from the topmost tower turret to the shadowy corners of the cellar, even without the floor plans. Jeff too knew all the defensive positions and plotted strategy with Alice, who had told her company of the invasion the next morning and exhorted them to polish their weapons and armor and be prepared to get up to the castle when she summoned them.

Jack and Bae went to the de Brabantes and Shepherds and told them the news, and later Rumple arrived and used some of his magic to cast wards that would cause anyone who did not belong to pass by their farmsteads, as if they weren't even there. They split up the flock of sheep, bringing some to Bea's farm and the others to Merrin's, but kept the horses and Sweetheart at the castle, because they could use them during the fight.

It had been determined that Charming would stay up at the castle with the Golds, and if it looked like Regina was going to break past the defenses, to get Snow out through a secret passage and ride hell for leather on Steady and Rogue to his place and hide her there.

Rumple and Myrnin, whose recovery was swift, made charms for all the children and Belle to wear, charms of protection and transportation, similar to the one Tom wore, that would bring them to a safe place, which was Shoe House, if their lives were in peril. Myrnin had set the protections over there, ensuring that once the children were all inside, the house would be veiled almost the way Gliringlass was, and no one save himself, Finn, or Rumple could remove the spell.

Rumple also gave Jeff the task of protecting his wife. "If anything happens to me, Jeff, take her away. Use your hat and walk the realms to a safe place. I'll go to my grave willingly if I know she's alive and so are my twins."

"That ain't gonna happen, buddy," Jeff said. "You're going to kick Regina's evil ass and grow old and bounce some grandkids on your knee."

"Maybe, but just in case . . . you do what I said, clear?"

"I hear you, Rum. Now how about we use these murder holes, here and here," he indicated the arrow slits high up on the outer walls. "To nail anyone coming near the wall on the east side? We can put Rafe, Myrnin, Snow, and some of Alice's archers there, they'll have an easy time picking off anyone approaching, it'll be like shooting fish in a barrel."

Belle made sure there were plenty of bandages, blankets, and herbal remedies on hand to doctor those who were wounded. She had Clary, Elaina, and Rennie help her with that, grinding herbs and making tinctures and powders and rolling bandages.

Jasmine accompanied Rumple out onto the grounds, where he instructed her to make all the bushes, especially the thorny ones, grow to the height of a man and entwine together to form a hedge about the castle proper. "I'm going to link with you, dearie, so you can draw on my power, and you won't pass out, okay?"

"I'm ready, Papa!" she said, flexing her hands.

Rumple stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, and gently linked the two of them together with his magic. "Now, Jasmine!"

The girl called up her power then, asking the plants to make of themselves an impenetrable barrier, and all the bushes and creeping tendrils of vines and thorn thickets grew at super speed, twisting and twining about each other until they created a living wall as high as Rumple's head all about the castle.

Rumple fed her power as she did so, until the thorny hedge was fully grown, and there was only one way in or out of the castle—through the front doors.

"We did it, Papa!" Jasmine cheered when the wall was complete.

"That's my girl!" Rumple said, hugging her.

"And I can ask the bugs and bees that are around to help too, when Regina comes," Jasmine said eagerly.

"Yes, you do that when I tell you," Rumple agreed.

He told Finn and Ariel to practice magic to enspell and enchant, magics that he had previously forbidden them to use. "This is the one time, Finn, that you can play that flute and make anyone who tries to hurt you or your siblings dance themselves until they drop. Or freeze in place, or summon rats and fleas to bite them, you do whatever you have to if anyone attacks you, lad. You won't pay vengeance's price, because you're acting in self-defense."

"I understand, Papa," Finn nodded grimly.

"And the same goes for you, Ariel," he said to his daughter. "You sing those siren songs to enchant and beguile an enemy if you have to."

"I will, Papa. Nobody will hurt my little brothers or sisters so long as I can talk."

He took June aside and said quietly, "Dearie, I need you to practice something new, just in case Regina's soldiers come calling. I want you to practice making your light so bright it blinds a person. And also making several lights at a time that blink to distract someone trying to hurt you."

"I can do that with my bubbles, Papa," the little girl said.

"Why, yes, you're right! Good thinking, Junie! Keep the bubbles with you and use them just like that. Now, let's see you glow as bright as you can."

As he worked with the child, Kristen was practicing her shifting, concentrating harder than she ever had before to transform into a bear. She had only managed a partial transformation previously, but then something clicked within her, and suddenly she blurred into a huge golden bear, nearly the size of Baron.

Ruby, who was over as well trying to shift into her wolf form after drinking some lupinessence potion, jumped up and down and yelled, "Master Gold! Master Gold! Kris did it!"

Rumple looked across the workroom and saw the bear where his daughter had been and applauded loudly. "Well done, Goldilocks! Give me a wave if you understand me."

The golden bear sat up and waved a paw, giving a loud grunt as she did so.

"Can you change back, dearie?" he asked.

In answer, the bear lowered her head and a mist surrounded the golden form. An instant later it cleared and Kristen stood there, grinning from ear to ear. "I really did it! I changed forms, Papa! And you were right, it wasn't hard at all once I wanted it badly enough!"

"I knew you could do it, Kris!" Ruby cheered. "Now can you help me?"

"Sure. Just close your eyes and wish really hard, like you've never wished before in your life," the shifter mage told her. "Like this!" Then she concentrated and blurred into a red-tailed hawk, flying about the workroom shrieking with joy.

But her victory was short-lived, for when she tried to land she tumbled over on the ground, but quickly blurred into her human form and ended up with nothing more than a few bruises.

"Are you all right?" called her father.

"I'm okay! I just need some more practice landing," she answered cheerily. "And boy, do I feel tired!"

"Don't shift again, Kris," he ordered. "Twice in one day is enough for now."

So Kristen went and supported Ruby, who after a whole half-an-hour finally managed to shift into a half-grown wolfling, about the size of a large sheepdog, who chased Kristen about the workroom, finally cornering her and licking her face until she begged for mercy.

Ruby happily informed Granny of her newly acquired skill, and Granny smiled and said, "That'll come in handy, _liebchen_, should a bad soldier find you."

For Granny and Ruby were now staying in the castle, since Belle's time was close, and Granny wanted to be available just in case she went into premature labor. The old woman had also drank the potion made for her by Rumple, and if needed, could change into a huge wolf, the size of the dire wolves that had once attacked June, Nick, and Nora in the Mystic Wood, and protect the children and Belle if necessary.

Phillip, Jack, Peter, Nick, Nora, and Tom were planning a few surprises of their own should any invader make it inside the castle. They had taken Nick's marble shooter game and rigged a trap at the top of the stairs with string and a box with a collapsible bottom, that Puss and Tom could trigger if they saw an enemy climbing the stairs.

They had Myrnin witch Nick's toy soldiers and Phillip's horses to come to life and attack anyone trying to get into the playroom, which was where most of the younger children would be hiding. As well as Clary's dolls, who would bear scissors and other sharp objects in memory of the infamous Voodoo Queen prank.

Pete had some more ideas for different bullets for his and Phillip's slingshots, but they required going into Valley Way to ask Seth's dad, the blacksmith, to make them special bullets that were hollow in the center.

Myrnin helped Ivy turn her kitchen into a fortress bristling with ordinary cooking implements become deadly weapons, and also used his talent for glamourie to set illusions all over the castle designed to scare the spit out of any intruders.

Rumple and Jeff booby trapped the east wing of the castle, both with and without magic, and it had spells to entice enemies to walk down it and get trapped there trying to get the chests of gold and treasure at the end of it.

It had been decided to let the Gold family pets stay in the upper levels of the castle with the younger children, as an added layer of protection should trouble come calling.

On the third day, a band of seven dwarves and a young huntsman arrived in Valley Way, and were greeted enthusiastically by the Card Captors.

Especially Martin Archer, who had not heard from Graham in months. He grabbed the younger man in a bear hug, slapping him on the back and saying, "Damn, kid, you could have sent a note or something so I knew you were coming."

"There wasn't time, Dad. We got here just in time," Graham told his stepfather. "Regina's army is at most a day behind us."

"Best you go on up to the castle and tell Captain Alice that," Martin said, releasing his son. "Hell, I'll go with you, they'll want archers there before too long."

And so Martin, Graham, and the seven dwarves went up to the Dark Castle to give Rumple and Alice the news that Regina's forces were coming. The dwarves introduced themselves politely to the master of the castle and his lady, and also to Snow, saying they were there to help defend her against her evil stepmother.

"I'm honored to meet you," Snow said, smiling at them and trying to memorize all of their names with their faces.

"The honor is ours, princess," they said, bowing and doffing their caps.

There was another surprise reunion between Graham and his old playmate, Rafe.

"Graham, holy hells!" Rafe cried when he saw the huntsman, who was about four years his senior. "Last time I saw you, you were what, thirteen and still trying to grow a beard? And now you've got a damn mustache!"

"Hi, Rafe! Last time I saw you, you were this snot-nosed nine-year-old who could barely string a bow, and now you're as tall as me! Almost," he added, then hugged his former archery partner.

Rafe grinned and said, "Guess you're here for the ass-whupping party we're gonna have as soon as Regina shows her mug in these parts?"

"Wouldn't miss it. I've been looking forward to sticking it her and her soldiers for a long time. She declared me an outlaw, put a bounty on my head of four hundred gold pieces, dead or alive."

"Yeah, well she'll have to go through me to collect it. Her and my wastrel dad, who's helping her, or so I hear," Rafe said. "But we can worry about those turds later. Come over here and meet my girlfriend."

Graham gaped at him. "_Girlfriend_? You're barely old enough to grow whiskers and you've got a girl?"

"Why, don't you, Romeo?" Rafe snickered.

"Uh . . . most girls don't go for outlaws," Graham sighed.

"You ought to get my brother Finn to write some ballads about you," Rafe said, laughing. "Add a little romance and you'll have some girl running away from home to go live in the forest with your band of merry men." He led Graham over to where Elaina was sitting, her golden hair glinting in the candlelight. "Elaina, love, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine. Say hello to Graham Hunter, he's the son of Martin, the merc who taught me how to shoot a bow when I was a little kid."

Elaina smiled at the handsome huntsman and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Graham. I'm Elaina Gold, Rum's daughter."

Graham bowed over her hand and kissed it. "Rafe, you're one lucky devil! My lady, your beauty outshines the sun. Want to go for a walk?"

Rafe smacked him on the back of the head. "Hey, Hunter, get your own girl!"

Graham grinned roguishly. "You've got sisters, right, Rafe?"

"Yeah, but you'd have to wait for some of them to grow up!" Rafe smirked.

"How about Rennie?"

"She's taken already. By my elder brother Bae. And so's Aurora, by Archie Hopper. Same thing with Ivy. She's Myrnin's intended."

Graham groaned. "Just my luck! Where's that brother of yours? I need him to write me some songs about how great it is in the greenwood and how I steal from all Regina's rich tax collectors and give away the gold to all her poor subjects."

"Do you?" asked Elaina.

"Sometimes," Graham laughed. "And I poach in the royal preserve too, which really gets her goat. She thinks the deer are hers to hunt, the insufferable wench!"

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Only a pompous witch would think a stupid thing like that."

"That's Regina for you," Graham chuckled. "Let's go shoot some targets, Rafe."

"I'll do you better than that, Graham. Let's go hunt us up some pheasants with my hound Rowan. It'll be the last time we can leave the castle before old Dark and Witchy gets here." Rafe whistled and Rowan bounded down the stairs, her tail wagging, baying a greeting.

"Wow! That's some dog!" Graham said, petting Rowan's ears.

"She's a champion, all right. Rowan, want to hunt up some pheasant?" Rafe asked his hound.

Rowan wagged her tail and barked.

He looked over at Elaina. "You coming, Elaina?"

"Of course. Just let me get some trousers on," his girlfriend said. "And those boots you made me."

The two hunters waited for Elaina change, and when she came downstairs, in her boy's attire, with her golden hair shoved under a green cap, wearing her new boots and carrying a knife in her belt, Graham whistled. "You're about the prettiest hunter I've ever seen!"

Elaina laughed. "You sure know how to give a girl a compliment." She looked sidelong at her boyfriend. "You taking notes, Rafe, honey?"

Rafe snorted. "He might talk pretty but I can shoot better. And kiss better." Then he took Elaina in his arms and kissed her hard.

When she drew away, she gave Graham a regretful look. "Sorry, Hunter. But there's nobody who can kiss like Rafe." Then she took Rafe's hand and they ran laughing out the back door, with Rowan and Graham following.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

That night, Alice moved all her company up to the castle, where they prepared for battle by polishing their weapons and armor and sharpening swords and oiling their bows and fletching arrows, camping out in the courtyard and the backyard near the barn and pastures.

Belle spent a restless night, unable to get comfortable, worrying about what tomorrow would bring. Finally she sat up and said, "I'm sorry, Rum, but I can't seem to get to sleep."

"Want me to rub your back, dearie?" he asked softly.

"I think I need some tea," she murmured.

"I'll go make some," he said.

He returned a few moments later with a small teapot and two cups from his favorite porcelain tea set, the white one with the blue blossoms on it, one of them with a small chip out of it. "Here you go," he said, handing her the one without the chip.

"Thanks, Rum," she said, cupping the delicate porcelain in her hand and sipping slowly.

He laid a hand on her belly while he drank his own. "They're quiet tonight."

"For once. Usually they're tap dancing on my bladder. Or kicking me in the ribs," she said, putting a hand over his. "Rum . . . I just want you to know, that no matter what happens, I've got your back."

"Belle . . . my darling Belle . . . I want you to be safe. You and our babies," he began, his voice soft, his eyes shining with love.

"I will be. The safest place for me is right here. With you, my beloved sorcerer." She leaned over, and their lips met over the chipped cup. "Regina thinks she holds all the cards, but she's forgotten one thing. There's always a wild card, and I've got it right here."

"What's that, love?"

"My love for you. Let her cast all the dark magic at her command. I'll break every curse she ever invents, for our love is stronger than any darkness she can throw at us. We'll come through this, Rumple. Together."

He kissed her back. "My wonderful brave Healer. There is no one like you in all the realms. I love you, my sweet Belle."

"And I love you too, dearie. With all that I am and will ever be. You have made my ordinary life extraordinary. And nothing will ever destroy that, Rum. Regina doesn't know what she's up against."

He laughed softly. "But she'll learn the hard way."

"She will. We'll kick her sorry ass all the way back to the hole she crawled out of and years from now, we'll tell these babies all about how the wicked queen tried to take over our home and we sent her yelping back home to hide under the bed."

"Damn straight, dearie."

They finished their tea in silence, the silence of two who know each other so well they need no words to speak to each other. When the cups were empty, Rumple banished them back to the kitchen.

Then he stretched out beside his wife and began to gently massage her lower back, working out all the knots and kinks lovingly with his deft touch, sending a slow spiraling heat through her until she drifted into slumber.

Then he curled up beside her, one arm flung over her stomach, where he could feel the new lives stirring beneath his hand, and he whispered, "Hush, little babies, don't say a word, Papa's here and there's naught to fear. Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bad fairies bite."

Smiling at his own whimsy, the Gold sorcerer snuggled beside his Healer lady and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was soon enough to worry about the invasion. But tonight belonged to them, two lonely hearts who had found each other and true love beyond their wildest dreams. It was a love worth fighting for, and he would never give up, not so long as there was breath in his body. In the end, it was the one thing that might save them.

**A/N: And now . . . get ready for the fight of the century as Regina and her allies go head to head with Rum and his forces, plus some unexpected assistance from a third party!**


	58. Kill the Beast

**58**

**Kill the Beast**

Dawn crested the horizon, flickering shafts of sunlight falling on the Dark Castle and the frozen ground covered in a dusting of snow, like icing on a dark chocolate cake. It fell on the thorny hedge surrounding the castle and upon the fallow fields and the barn, smokehouse, and the orchard, where the trees' bare branches groped the sky like pleading hands. Unlike other mornings, there was an air of melancholy about the grounds, of pregnant anticipation, as if the land itself was waiting for a blow to fall, though as yet there was no army in sight.

Birds sang in the treetops of the Mystic Wood, but their songs were pale things that did not reach across the barren fields to the castle yard. Bae and his brothers, along with Rennie and Snow, went about their chores in silence, feeding the animals and gathering the eggs and milk without the usual teasing and merriment. When they were through, the girls crated the hens and brought them inside, putting them inside a little used annex off the dining room. They brought the goats and Bluebird there also, as well as the few sheep that remained.

Only the horses were left in the barn now, and all three had bridles and saddles on, tacked and ready to be ridden at a moment's notice if need be. They switched their tails and snorted as they ate their hay and a small ration of oats, sensing something was not right with this morning.

Where the wheat and corn had been, now were the tents and fires of the Card Captors, as they cooked and made ready to face the queen's forces, which should be coming today, according to the dwarves, who were also bivouacked there.

Just as Peter was shooing Fanny inside the kitchen door, her bell clanging, a tall figure emerged from the edge of the Mystic Woods and walked across the fields towards the castle, skirting the mercenary encampment like a ghost. He had a bow slung on his back, along with a quiver, and was wearing the silvery mail and green dappled tunic and pants of an _il'Shennara_ ranger. His cloak of mottled gray, green, and brown billowed out behind him as he approached the back door, his flowing blond hair caught back by a simple braided leather headband with a white and gray banded snow falcon feather hanging from it, just brushing the tip of one pointed ear. The sword at his side bore a chased silver hilt.

"Good morrow, youngling," he called to Peter.

Peter turned about, startled. "Huh? Who are you?" he blurted before he got a good look at the stranger. Once he did, he gasped. "Why, you're Myrnin's friend that came here before!"

"Yes. May I come in?" the wood elf said politely.

Peter held the door and let the ranger enter the kitchen, where Ivy was just dishing up some porridge with dried fruit, sausage with gravy, biscuits, scrambled eggs and toast. "Peter, put Fanny in the annex, then come and eat before it gets cold," she instructed her brother. "And what are you leaving the back door open for, it's freezing out!"

"Your pardon, my lady, the fault is mine," came a clear tenor, and the _il'Shennara_ ranger entered the room.

Ivy almost dropped the platter of toast she was holding. "Puck! What brings you here? Did the king send you?"

Puck smiled and shook his head. "Good morrow, Ivy. I am here on my own, King Ambrosius did not send me anywhere. Is your father or mother around? Or Myrnin?"

"They're in the dining room," she said, gesturing to the room just off the kitchen to the left. "Won't you join us for breakfast?"

"It would be my pleasure, as I did not take time to eat before coming here," Puck said, following her into the dining room.

All the family was there, including Jeff, Alice, Charming, Granny, Ruby, Graham, and Myrnin. Ivy set the platter of toast down in the middle of the table and walked to her place beside Myrnin.

"Puck! What are you doing here? Don't tell me the king sent you to fetch me back to Gliringlass?"

"No, my prince—" Puck began, only to be interrupted by Myrnin.

"I am a prince no longer, Puck. Surely the king told you I am outcast now? Now I am just Myrnin, ward and foster son of the Gold sorcerer."

Puck came around the table and placed a fist over his heart, saying softly, "Ambrosius may have declared you outcast, but not all of us agree with his decision. Especially me. I swore an oath long ago to Lady Ninaeve, and it binds me still. No matter what the king declares, you are still my lord, Myrnin Stormshadow," He unsheathed his sword, holding it out on the palms of his hands and dropped gracefully to one knee. "I, Puck Sylvanor, former captain of the kingsguard and ranger of the _il' Shennara_, do swear my fealty to you unto death. Upon my sword I pledge this!"

"What? Puck, you can't do this!" Myrnin protested. "I'm an exile, by swearing fealty to me, you've made yourself one as well. Are you out of your mind?"

"Not at all, my prince. In fact, I'm thinking more clearly now than ever before. Do you accept my service?"

Myrnin groaned. "If I agree, will you get up off the damn floor?"

Puck eyed him sharply. "Well, my liege?"

Myrnin sighed and put a hand on Puck's sword, saying formally, "I accept your oath, ranger lord, now get up! I can't believe you just did that. You can never go back now."

Puck rose to his feet and sheathed his sword. "Nor do I wish to. My place is beside you, Myrnin." He turned to Rumplestilskin and Belle, bowing and saying, "Forgive me, Master and Lady Gold, for interrupting your meal. But I thought it best to arrive as soon as possible, since there have been rumors about that you'll be facing a force of my dark kin soon, as well as an invading monarch known as the Evil Queen."

"Welcome, Puck. You've certainly come just in time. Have a seat and eat some breakfast. You're going to need it, if Regina comes on schedule," said Rumple.

"Thank you," Puck said, and took a seat next to Myrnin, who was at the end of the table on the left side. Rumple snapped his fingers and a place setting appeared in front of the elven warrior. He quietly helped himself to some food and Ivy passed him the carafe of coffee, along with some cream and sugar.

Myrnin paused in eating his sausage and gravy with biscuits and said, "With you gone, the _il'Shennara _have lost one of the best warriors ever to draw a bow. The king is going to be furious."

"Let him. It's his own fault I left," Puck smirked, stirring his coffee. "If your mother were alive, she'd beat him like a rug all about the Aspen Manse for his stupidity. Then again, had she lived, things might have been different."

"Maybe," Myrnin allowed. "But then again, maybe it's better this way. This is my home now, and I'm better off here than I ever was in Gliringlass."

"It is so," Puck agreed, then he began to eat some scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage. "And far better I serve you, a prince in exile, than I do the king's foolish pride."

Rumple agreed with that one hundred percent, and thought that Fate was kind to have sent him such a formidable warrior in his hour of need.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Regina's army_

_En route to the Dark Castle:_

Regina drew reign, pulling up her nightmare, Lilith, as she rode behind her handpicked force of three hundred soldiers, most of them her private palace guard, the rest made up from those she had recruited down in the royal city and from among the brigands she had sentenced to die, giving them a pardon if they would agree to fight for her against the Dark One. To a man, they had agreed, and she had armed them accordingly.

Her force was the vanguard, and to the right were the men of House Marchand, Sir Gaston's force of sellswords and guardsmen, wearing the red and gold livery of their lord, with a golden boar rampant on the left breast, one hundred and fifty strong.

Bringing up the rear, but by no means the least of her allies, was the _dwarrow_ company, some on foot, the officers, Nightlords, and their captain, Zist, mounted on huge carnivorous lizards. The night elves wore armor that was black as night and carried weapons of obsidian tipped with different poisons, though most were dipped in the venom of the green spiders of their cave homeland, one of the most potent poisons known in the realms. They were pale as bleached bone, and had hair of ebony or midnight blue, and in the case of the Nightlords, pure white, as the color had been leeched from it by their dark magic. They numbered one hundred, all trained to war and bearing the ancient magic of their race. They were all wearing sunstone amulets crafted by her, so they could withstand the light of the sun.

Riding beside her on blooded horses were Captain Hook and his wife Milah, and next to them marched the crew of the _Blood Heart, _twenty in number, including Smee, the bo'sun.

Regina wore a fine cloak of ermine that reached to the tips of her shiny black boots. She wore tight leather pants that accented her long legs and a long tunic slit up the side to show tantalizing glimpses of flesh. It was cinched tightly at the waist by a wide leather belt which held several of her potions, a ritual dagger, a black wand with a diamond in the handle, and a palm-sized mirror. The bodice of the tunic was accented with more ermine and she wore a bloodstone pendant around her neck.

They had quick marched as rapidly as they could from the Enchanted Forest, taking paths known only to the _dwarrow_ and their allies to enable them to get to Attica in less than a week. Now they were a few hours away from their destination, and Regina had slowed Lilith to a walk, patting her restive steed's neck. The nightmare had been a gift to her from Lord Zist, and she cherished the magical steed, one of the few she had ever owned. The nightmare had fiery eyes and could ignite her hooves into flame when she wished. She could run like the wind and walk upon air, though other animals were terrified of her, as she emanated an aura of darkness.

But she suited Regina perfectly.

As they marched, Regina exhorted her men to go faster, driving them onward with the promise of riches at their journey's end, for everyone knew the Dark Castle was filled with more treasure than one could spend in a lifetime. She had gotten most of her recruits blood up by telling them how the Dark One had enchanted Snow White and held her hostage and Regina was marching on him to rescue her stepdaughter. Only Hook, Milah, Zist, Gaston, and the crew of the _Blood Heart_ knew the true story. The _dwarrow_ cared nothing for human politics, they simply enjoyed killing and they followed Regina in hopes of satisfying their bloodlust and removing a powerful magical threat at the same time, as well as their pick of the magical objects within the castle.

Regina could hardly wait to engage the cowardly Gold sorcerer, as he now called himself, and show him who was the true master of magic in all the kingdoms of Fairy Tale Land. She'd make him beg before she destroyed him . . . and watch as she dragged off his precious children to be made slaves and took his wife as her personal maid. Or perhaps she'd make him watch as she gave that wretched princess of Avonlea to the crew of pirates to have their wicked way with. Oh, yes, he would beg on his knees then, for her to spare his beloved Belle, and she would laugh in his face and stake the wench out for Hook's crew.

That would teach him to spurn her advances! She might even do something similar to Snow White before she cut out her heart, ending forever the rightful line of the rulers of the Enchanted Forest.

Smiling wickedly, she clucked to Lilith to go faster as they passed the first stone marker that indicated they had crossed into Attica. She estimated they would have four days to lay siege to the Dark Castle and destroy Rumplestiltskin and his family without arousing the notice of King Jason and his troops. That would be all she needed.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It was midday before they reached the outskirts of Valley Way, and Regina paused to allow her men to rest awhile before storming the castle. She dismounted and had her personal cook and valet put up a small awning and she sat beneath it along with Hook, Milah, Gaston, and Zist, drinking red wine and eating cheese, crackers, and goose liver pate.

Her army sprawled about her, ready and waiting to cause mayhem at her command. She mentally reviewed a list of spells in her head as she sipped her wine. Wouldn't Rumple be surprised when she showed up on his doorstep?

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

An hour later, Regina paced up and down, her eyes blazing, as she snarled at Gaston for allowing his men to carouse and drink down in the village instead of being ready to march as she had specified. "What do you mean, they aren't ready? You heard me tell you to be ready to leave in an hour, and you permit your men to go . . . tavern hopping? What do you think we're on here, Gaston, a holiday?"

Gaston shrugged. "Your Majesty, you must understand, my men are in need of . . . relaxation before going into battle. A little time spent with a tankard of ale in one hand and a willing wench in the other is not a bad thing. Soldiers fight better when they are given incentive."

"I promised them a fair share of the booty we get from the castle!" Regina snapped. Now go down and bring them back up here, dammit! They signed on to storm a castle, not the bloody village tavern!"

Gaston heaved a sigh. "As you wish, Your Grace," he said, bowing and then heading down to the village to round up half his men. This was why women shouldn't be allowed on campaigns, or be in charge of armies. Because they lacked the perspective of a man, and were always nagging a man about something. What did it matter when they got to the castle? It wasn't going anywhere.

He found most of his men drinking and singing lewd songs, and a few were kissing the tavern servers and yelling, "Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast! Break down the door and drag him forth, put his head on a pole! When the Beast is dead, we'll have no more to dread! Kill the Beast!"

Several of the locals in the tavern were giving his men incredulous looks and some were even glaring at them. The barkeep was scowling at them, though he continued to serve drinks. "What Beast are you speaking of?" he asked one brawny fellow with a pike.

"Why the one known as the Dark One, of course! We're going to wreck his castle and slaughter all his unnatural children and stick his head on a pike! Right, lads?"

An answering roar from his fellows filled the tavern. "Aye! Kill the Beast!"

Before things could get out of hand, Gaston called his men to order and they marched out of the Goose, leaving behind spilled pints of ale, crushed peanut shells, and disgruntled townsfolk.

Mike glared at their backs, then scowled and said to a wide-eyed Archie, "They must be idiots, taking about killing Rumplestiltskin like that. Daft buggers! Who do they think they are?"

"Crazy," Archie answered. But his heart was suddenly cold in his chest.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Alice went out after breakfast to gather up her men and put them about the castle in the defensive positions she and Jeff had spoken of yesterday. Some, especially the archers in the group, would take up positions inside the castle, under Jeff's command, while she led the others on the outside.

No sooner had she deployed her men, then Rumple felt a sharp needle of icy cold shoot through his gut and heard the soft whisper of the guardian spirits. _Gold sorcerer, dark ones come! Danger! Danger! They come!_

He took a deep breath and said softly, "They're here, dearies. Now get into position like we talked about, okay? Quickly!" He knelt and hugged Clary, Phillip, Nick, Nora, and June. "Go hide in the playroom! And remember what we talked about."

"Are the bad men and the Evil Queen coming, Papa?" Clary asked, hugging him back.

"Yes, but don't worry, Clary. Papa's going to kick their ass. Now go with Bae, all right?" He kissed her forehead and then gave her to his eldest, who took her in his arms and raced up the stairs.

"Give it to them, Papa!" Jack said, giving him and Belle a hug before following his siblings upstairs.

Tom waved as he raced upstairs on Puss, with Gingy on Candy Cane running alongside.

Once the younger children were upstairs, Bae returned, now dressed in his suit of elven armor with his elven blade at his side, carrying his helmet beneath his arm.

Charming was wearing armor as well, an old mail shirt of Jefferson's, and wearing Bae's old sword and his blue cloak given to him by Snow.

Snow had her bow and quiver of arrows in hand, and was standing beside Rafe and Graham, who also carried bows.

Rennie was beside Belle and Granny, she carried her crook and was dressed in trews and a tunic, as was Aurora, Elaina, and Ivy.

Elaina twirled her hair uneasily, and carried a cast iron skillet in one hand.

Ivy bore a brace of knives on her belt and looked fierce, standing next to Myrnin and Puck.

Aurora held a pointed distaff, looking ready to whack someone.

Jeff was also wearing armor and his sword, as well as his hat. He moved to stand protectively in front of Belle.

"Archers, take your positions!" he called and Martin, Graham, Snow, Rafe, and some of Alice's mercs took up positions by each of the arrow slits.

"Let's go prepare the hospital, Belle," said Granny, and she led Belle into the sitting room, which had been transformed from the family parlor to a sick ward complete with pallets, blankets, and all of Belle's medicines and bandages. Jeff took up position by the doorway.

"Myrnin, Ivy, Puck, go up to the west tower turret," Rumple ordered. "I'll take the left one," he said, the spirits' warning screaming a siren call throughout his whole being now, as the invaders drew ever closer.

Bae, Rennie, and Charming flanked the archers, and Alice's men spread out across the foyer, weapons drawn.

Rumple smiled grimly. "They're almost here. Let's give them a proper Gold welcome, shall we?"

There were grim nods and cheers, then he teleported up to the left hand tower turret to See in his scrying bowl what Regina's forces made of his defenses and use his advantage of height to rain death down on his enemies.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

As the first of Regina's forces tried to cross the boundary onto the castle grounds, they got a nasty shock. Literally. Men screamed in agony and staggered backwards, horribly burned and injured by Rumple's wards. Some were even killed by coming into contact with them for too long. Twenty-five men were put out of commission and the advance guard ground to a halt, fearful and shaking.

"Something's wrong," Hook muttered, trying to see what was going on ahead of him.

On the western flank, Captain Zist sneered as the Enchanted Forest guard was repelled by the sorcerer's wards. "Stupid humans! Don't they know anything? You always check for wards before entering a sorcerer's abode."

Then, suiting actions to words, he called up his four Nightlords. "Tinye! Varkon! Lyrieth! Kavrik! Dismantle these wards!"

The dark mages came up and began chanting, making several passes through the air, calling on their dark art to take the wards down so they could cross onto the grounds.

Regina rode forward, her hand clenched on her wand. "What's the problem, Zist?"

"Just taking down the wards, Your Majesty," the captain replied, a faint sneer in his tone, saying that she should have thought of that first.

"Well, hurry up!" Regina snapped, irritated by his attitude. "I haven't got all day."

Zist glanced back at his Nightlords, who had ceased chanting. "It is done, Majesty. Now we can advance."

Regina gave a signal for her men to start going towards the castle, then turned and rode back behind them. Let them encounter most of the traps Rumple had set first, that was what they had been hired for.

The _dwarrow _laughed and advanced, weapons drawn, calling upon their native glamourie and vanishing from sight, or flickering in and out like ghosts as they crept along the western side of the castle.

Regina's men, doubly cautious now, hopped and ran across the boundary, scared of being singed, even though the wards were now inactive. What seemed like a perfectly even stretch of ground sprinkled with snow lay before them.

They soon discovered to their dismay that it was anything but.

There came a low humming and the air suddenly was filled with swarms of yellow hornets and wasps, clouds of the stinging insects that suddenly converged upon the invaders, finding every chink in their armor and stinging with deadly force.

Even the _dwarrow_ were not immune to the wrath of the small folk, and they too started howling and beating at themselves_, _trying to escape the fury of the hornets and wasps. Men fell on the ground, rolling over and crushing hundreds of the flying pests, but more seemed to emerge from nowhere and had Regina and Gaston's men running about in a frenzy, screaming as the wasps crawled beneath their armor and stung them several times before dying.

Some of the men and _dwarrow_ managed to make it past the hordes of insects and then they encountered the huge wall of thorns that Jasmine and Rumple had constructed. They began to try and hack their way through it, and it was then that the hedge came alive and attacked them.

Vines hissed and coiled about feet and wrists, and pulled soldiers into their cold green embrace . . . and then the hedge swallowed them whole.

"It _ate_ them!" one of Gaston's men babbled upon seeing the thorny hedge drag two of his companions within its green depths.

Just then the hedge burped loudly, and the vines rustled hungrily.

Several of the men refused to go any further, muttering that they had signed on to rescue a princess, not get eaten by carnivorous plants.

Angrily, Regina rode Lilith up through the army, wondering why they had come to a halt again. She ignored the scores of men whimpering and thrashing about beneath the swarms of insects, some lay dying from allergic reactions to the stings as well.

She banished a swarm of hornets with a hand waved in front of her, and called out to one of her captains, "What in hell is going on now?"

"The—the hedge—it's alive!" the man whimpered, staring at the thorny thicket in horror. "It—it _eats_ anything it can catch!"

As if to demonstrate, the hedge suddenly lashed out with a tendril and snagged a soldier and dragged him into its depths, screaming in terror until the hedge swallowed him.

"Hmm. Not bad," Regina mused, then she pointed a finger. "But plants burn." Fire exploded from her and the hedge began to smoke and burn as she poured more fire into it, making the vines shrivel and die and pull away with odd little wails as the fire burnt them to ash.

"There! Now go through it!" she ordered, pointing to the large gap she had left in the hedge.

She looked over at the night elves, they seemed to have things well in hand, using their dark priest and Nghtlords to start copycat fires along the hedge and soon more sections were smoking. As the hedge withered and died, the stench from it permeated the air, making those closest to it choke and cough and become ill, for the smell was worse than a dozen charnel houses.

Regina covered her nose with a handkerchief and backed away, thinking that Rumple was more prepared than she had expected. Not that it mattered. At the end of the day she had more numbers and that would be what counted. All of his clever tricks would not save him.

Even so, the advancing army found the approach to the castle treacherous. The very earth seemed turned against them, it heaved and buckled under their feet, rocks and sticks crawled in their way, tripping them up. There were pitfalls and holes, and every now and again the earth would explode, killing a few. Every step they took was an effort and the mere two hundred yards to the castle courtyard might have been two thousand or more as they fought for every piece of ground.

The soldiers began to mutter in fear and were reluctant to go on, only doing so by the threats and curses of their commanders. Several crept off and deserted, their nerves shot by the continuing barrage of misfortune. They had been trained to fight human enemies, not unseen magics, and even Regina's motivations of great treasure and fame were not enough to hold them when all around them their fellows were dying and injured by unseen foes. The night elves were less affected by the sudden spate of mishaps, but they too became more wary and cautious as they made their way up the western slope.

Gaston's company had almost made it halfway up the eastern slope when they were halted by a barrage of arrows from the defenders. They tried to shield themselves, but the archers kept picking off men, one by one, until Gaston signaled his lieutenants to just charge through the assault.

Regina's men made it about a yard or two past the man-eating hedge before the earth suddenly erupted and a great white slime covered worm exploded from the ground. It's gaping maw revealed rows and rows of teeth, and it crushed men beneath its heaving body.

Screaming, the soldiers backpedaled to avoid being crushed and eaten, their arrows and swords bouncing off the thick gel-like hide. Officers screamed orders to their men, milling about the giant creature like ants at a picnic.

The advance slowed, and before Regina could attack the great worm, Zist did, sending a small party of _dwarrow_ plus a Nightlord over to assist them. The night elves' spelled obsidian blades hacked and chopped the giant worm to pieces and the Nightlord's spells caused it to shrink and fade, becoming once more an ordinary earthworm.

"Ha! Take that, Rumple!" Regina crowed when it was done, clapping her hands.

Then she gasped as a huge black shape unfurled itself from a parapet and flew at them.

It was a dragon, all blackness and size, it blotted out the sun and swooped down upon them, breathing fire.

Men ran, panicking, as the most dreaded monster in all the realms attacked them, and there would have been a rout of a quarter of the queen's army if not for the night elves, who stood sneering at the terrified humans.

"Stupid sheep!" laughed one. "Can't they see it is but illusion? Smoke and mirrors!"

"Glamourie," snorted Tinye. "Well-cast, but glamourie only." He lifted a hand and muttered a few words and the dragon flickered and faded, dispelled.

"Get back in line! Stand and fight!" the company commanders bellowed at the retreating soldiers as soon as they saw the night elves standing there laughing, unharmed by the strafing run of fire. "It's not real!"

Finally the panicked retreat halted, though more than a few had fainted and some weaker ones had died of the fear the illusionary dragon had conjured.

Now the soldiers were even more on edge, and they still had to get through the courtyard, which was filled with shifting stones and statues that toppled and crushed them as they picked their way among the cobbles.

And if that were not enough to contend with, the master of the castle sent seemingly endless rounds of fireballs and purple magic missiles down on them from the tower top, causing more death and destruction.

Cursing, Regina used her magic to conjure a shield over the company of men with a battering ram, protecting them from the rain of fire as they attempted to batter down the doors.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Inside the castle, Alice's men waited in loose formation in the foyer to confront any who managed to make it into the castle, while above the archers continued shooting Gaston's troops as they climbed up the hill and burnt and hacked through the thorn hedge, which still held some men fast, despite everything.

"There's too damn many of them!" Rafe snarled, his fingers burning as he shot another arrow at a man scrabbling up the hill.

"Just keep firing," Martin told him softly. "Every one we take out is one less we'll need to fight when they finally do break those doors down."

"_If they _can," Graham said, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Oh, they will, son. Not right away, but even doors reinforced with magic can be shattered," the archer replied. He looked over at Snow, who had been shooting right along with them. "Best be prepared to run, my lady."

"Not yet," she said, a grim look on her face. Then she raised her bow and took aim once more through the arrow slit.

Charming crouched, along with Bae, sword in hand, wincing at the brutal pounding upon the doors. "How long can they hold up?"

"No idea," Bae said softly. "Papa witched them, but Martin's right. Even his magic has limits. If they come through, I'll cover you while you and Snow take the secret way."

"And so will I," Rennie said stoutly, her crook gripped in both of her hands. "Remember, Rogue and Steady are waiting in the barn, already saddled so all you have to do is ride."

"We'll cover you on Flicker," Bae told him.

"Like we planned," Charming nodded. "And may the gods of war favor us."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"Engage!" Alice shouted, and took her half her company and counterattacked, appearing out of thin air in the courtyard, as Myrnin's glamourie cloaked them. She led them as they charged at the corps with the battering ram, causing them to drop the log and pick up their swords.

Soon the courtyard was filled with soldiers and Card Captors attacking, and the clash of swords on shields and armor echoed in the still air.

Alice parried and thrust, her sword like a flickering silver snake as it cut through her enemies. Half of her foes were not trained combat veterans, just conscripted soldiers, and she danced about the blundering soldiers, her blade finding their weak points and then thrusting home with deadly grace.

Flanking her were two of her lieutenants, and ten of her best fighters, they formed a wedge, driving through Regina's men like a hot knife through butter.

"Cursed wench!" swore one of Regina's captains as he moved to attack the golden-haired whirlwind. "I'm going to hang you from the ramparts by that pretty hair of yours, girlie!"

"Famous last words, scumbag!" Alice sneered, countering his thrust and then striking back. "Shut up and fight, pansy-ass!"

The captain blocked, but soon found that the golden-haired woman was more than what she seemed, as all his attempts to disable and kill her were deflected several times over. He found himself giving ground, defending frantically against the silver sword that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Alice saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of one eye. She went low and spun, her sword cutting the knees of the Enchanted Forest soldier on her right who attempted to stab her before spinning back around to thrust her blade through the faltering captain's ribcage. "Like I said, famous last words!" she panted, withdrawing her sword.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Regina urged Lilith into the air and flew towards the front assault on the castle doors, trying to see what had stopped them from breaking them down. She cast flaming balls of fire at the Card Captors in the courtyard, but had to dodge several attacks herself from Rumple, and it made her angry.

She drew her wand then and pointed it at the doors, snarling. The wand glowed a brilliant red, then shot a beam of concussive force towards the stubborn doors. It smashed into them, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the wood. Regina smirked and did it again, and was rewarded when the doors shattered and exploded.

"Move!" she yelled to her soldiers. "Get inside, you idiots!"

She blasted some more Card Captors with her wand, but then was forced to duck and fly away as Rumple sent lightning at her.

Lilith screamed in rage as a bolt almost singed her tail, and she whirled and galloped back towards the rear of the army, safely out of range, with Regina swearing and cursing the Gold sorcerer atop her.

"Missed!" Rumple scowled as he conjured more fire. "But there'll be another time, dearie, when you won't be riding that devil mare and we'll see how well you can dance." Then he tossed more fireballs down at the soldiers in the courtyard, incinerating as many as he could before they entered the castle.

He prayed that Charming had gotten Snow out through the secret passage and that Granny and Jeff were making sure Belle was safe. Right now they were holding, but just barely.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When the doors shattered, Alice's mercenaries in the foyer lifted their shields up to deflect flying debris and then engaged the enemy pouring through the gap, which were mostly Gaston's troops and some of Regina's that weren't battling Alice and her force outside.

As the fighting grew fast and furious below, Charming and Bae called to Snow, "Let's go, before they block off the exit!"

Snow came reluctantly, her bow clenched in one fist. She drew and shot at a soldier advancing on the stairs from the foyer, saying shortly, "I can fight, you know."

"Yeah, but you also need to survive to win back your kingdom," Bae reminded her. "Come on, little sister, let's move!"

Together with Rennie, Charming, Snow, and Bae turned and disappeared through one of several secret passages honeycombing the castle, brushing aside cobwebs and small creepy crawly things as they made their way through the tunnel which led to the stables.

Soon they came out into the feed room, and after leaving a partial crack so Bae and Rennie could return that way later, they mounted their horses, Snow on Rogue, Charming on Steady, and Bae on Flicker, with Rennie behind him.

Then they sent the horses bolting out the stable doors at a run, and were racing across the fields towards the Shepherds' homestead.

A small force of Gaston's men, mounted knights, saw, and gave chase.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On the western side of the castle, the dwarrow had withered the thorn hedge with their dark magics and now were preparing to blow a hole in the wall . . . just as the earth collapsed beneath their feet as the dwarves and some more of Alice's mercenaries came up from hidden trenches just before the walls and attacked them.

As the night elve**s **fought the defenders, Zist's Nightlords cast weakening hexes at the wall and one sustained pulse of energy that blew a hole in it.

As the western side of the castle shook under the impact, Myrnin, Puck, and Ivy, atop the western turret, gripped the stone ramparts. "Damn! We need to do something about those blasted Nightlords!" the young sorcerer cried.

"Let's take them out," Puck agreed. Then he whistled, three times.

"You're not calling—" Myrnin began, just as two white winged pegasi emerged from the Mystic Wood and flew towards them. "You took Stormrider and Snowdrop with you?"

"Yes. I figured Ambrosius owes me for all those years of service, and you as well. Besides, you're the only one who can ride Storm," Puck answered.

As the two pegasi landed atop the tower, the elven ranger swung onto the slightly smaller one and strapped himself into the saddle.

Myrnin stroked Storm's nose, then said, "Let's knock some _dwarrow_ scum to hell, huh, boy?" He mounted, and then looked at Ivy.

"I'm coming," she asserted. "I can help you fight. I'll use my Talent to enhance your powers, Myrnin."

"All right, _a'liri_. Let's do it!" He helped her mount, then wound the safety straps about both of them and cast levitation charms on himself and her, just in case. "Ready?" he called.

Ivy wrapped her arms about his waist and said, "Time to kick some _dwarrow's_ ass!" Then she sent a pulse of magic through him, enhancing his own.

Myrnin felt it rush through him, like a bolt of pure energy and he grinned as Stormrider took off, gliding through the smoke filled air like a banshee of legend. Beside him, Puck was drawing and shooting at their dark kin upon the ground, his glittering magical arrows taking down a night elf or two as he flew over them.

"Hang on!" Myrnin warned, and he signaled Storm to bank left and dive.

Bolts of lightning exploded from his hands, strafing the _dwarrow_ as Storm dove through the air.

Caught by surprise, Zist ducked and swore as lightning slammed into the ground a few feet from him. He drew his bow and sent poisoned arrows back at Myrnin and Puck, but Storm and Snowdrop were too swift, and twisted about, avoiding the deadly arrows.

The night elf captain snarled and shook his fist, yelling at his priest, "Ravion! Kill that damned _il'Shennara_ magic worker now!"

Ravion began to call upon his dark goddess, Kali the Destroyer, and his hands glowed with arcane fire. He sent black bolts of magic at the pegasi and their riders, forcing them to twist and dodge to avoid the sizzling fire.

Myrnin pulled Storm up just before a black bolt would have fried them, calling to Puck, "They've got a dark priest down there, Puck! Bellona favor our hand!"

"I see him, my prince!" Puck said, pulling Snowdrop about and aiming his bow.

Ravion spat as he looked up at the circling pegasi, and prepared to cast yet another curse.

Until Puck's arrow took him through the throat and his prayer ended in a gurgling hiss as he struck the ground, dead.

Myrnin whooped and shouted down at the night elves, "Take that, you rotting bastards! Good shot, Puck! Now let me see how fast these _dwarrow_ can run!"

He took Stormrider on a looping flight across the entire western half of the hill, calling on every bit of battle magic he possessed, sending a rain of burning meteors down upon his dark kin, followed by huge hailstones, and sheets of white lightning. Normally, he never would have been able to cast so quickly at once, without rest inbetween, but Ivy's magic flowed through his veins in a dizzying rush, tripling his ability to cast, and he became death personified upon a winged horse, soaring through an ashen sky.

The _dwarrow_ broke and ran then, desperate to escape, nearly trampling Zist as they tried to hide, though there was no cover on the barren hillside, and their glamourie was useless against Myrnin and Puck's elven eyes.

As the night elves scattered like windblown chaff, Ivy shouted, "Run, cowards! Run home with your tail between your legs, you evil little rats!"

Myrnin chuckled, then began yet another flight, his goal this time to pick off the remaining Nightlords.

Puck followed a few lengths behind, shooting arrows to cover the young sorcerers as they flew, quietly marveling at how his prince had at last come into his own.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Inside the castle, Belle and Granny worked ceaselessly to patch up the wounded in the makeshift hospital, their aprons and hands wet with the blood of the injured Card Captors they tended. Belle was wearing the gloves Rumple had made her, but they soon became so soaked with the blood of her patients that she had to strip them off.

They used every scrap of linen bandages they had, and most of the tinctures for pain and the antibacterial potions Rumple had brewed in the first hour and a half. Belle stitched as many wounds shut as she could, though there were so many injured that she barely had time to breathe before going to examine the next patient.

Comrades dragged injured companions past Jeff through the doorway and left them lying on the floor before returning to the fray.

Belle took a moment to wash her hands in a solution of vinegar water before wiping her face with a handkerchief and saying, "I hope that's the last of them for awhile, Granny. I'm going to need more supplies."

"If we can get anymore," the old herbalist said darkly. "They've entered the castle now, Belle. We've done what we can, it's time to go and get into a more defensible position upstairs."

"But Granny, I can't leave these men here!" the Healer protested.

"You may have no choice," the old woman said, her ears pricking up at the sounds of fighting just beyond the doorway.

No sooner had she said that, then a wild-eyed soldier wearing Regina's black and white livery burst into the room. "Hello, pretty!" he cooed upon seeing Belle. "Let's go make some noise, eh?"

Belle froze, a small scalpel clutched in her hand.

The soldier leered at her as he strode forward, his sword out.

Then a wolf the size of a pony leaped over Belle's head and smashed into the man, knocking him to the ground with a savage howl.

The soldier screamed once before the wolf's jaws crushed his windpipe.

"Belle! Get down!" Jeff yelled, charging into the room with his sword drawn, and behind him was Martin, with an arrow nocked. "I swear one slipped past me," the lieutenant said, then he saw the man lying on the floor with the wolf on top of him. "But not for long. Thanks for the assist, Granny."

The wolf shook her head and stepped away from the dead man, growling softly.

"Belle, you okay?" Jeff asked, seeing her standing there.

"F-fine, Jeff. He . . . just surprised me, that's all," she said.

"Good. Now let's get you upstairs, there're too many soldiers coming through here for me to defend you properly," Jeff said. He went to a section of the fireplace and tapped it twice, and the bricks slid aside to reveal a secret passage to the upper levels of the castle. Belle grabbed a candlestick with a lit candle and walked towards the passage.

"Ladies first," Jeff said, as Belle and Granny, still in wolf form, entered the tunnel. Then he followed, waving a thanks to Martin before the passageway clicked shut behind them.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The fighting in the foyer continued unabated, as the Card Captors sought to push back Regina's and Gaston's men, but theirs was a losing battle, for they were outnumbered two to one. Rafe and Graham shot dozens of arrows into the mass of soldiers until their fingers bled, and still it was not enough.

"Gods! It's like killing roaches!" Rafe cried, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I know! There's always two more that pop up," Graham sighed.

"But at least you can stomp them!" Elaina said, as she whacked any soldier that tried to come up the stairs to attack the archers with her skillet, using a unique method that involved tangling the enemy in her braid before smashing them with it.

Suddenly there was a stir as a big man wearing mail and a red and gold surcoat with a war bow in his hand tromped through the shattered doors, followed by three soldiers, who immediately attacked the mercenaries in the foyer.

"Come on, men! Hurry up!" Gaston bellowed. "Let's kill the Beast known as the Dark One!"

"You'll have to get through us first!" Rafe shouted, turning and aiming his bow at the big warrior.

Gaston looked up . . . and met his son's eyes for the first time in seven years. "_Raphael?_"

Rafe stiffened, only then recognizing the man before him. "Dad!" he spat. "I should have known you'd show up, like a bad copper penny!"

"Lower your bow, boy," Gaston ordered. "We've come to free you from the sorcerer that your depraved mother married."

"My depraved mother married a decent man!" Rafe snarled, his eyes blazing. "One that knows the meaning of honor and fidelity, unlike you!"

Gaston flinched. "What lies has she told you, son? Whatever she said, it's not true! Come down and join me, we'll take your sister and little brother too, after we hunt down the Beast and make a rug from his hide!"

"You can go to hell! Mom doesn't lie—that's _your_ method! You forget, I was there, I saw what you did! You treated a princess of the blood no better than a common tavern wench . . . and nothing you can say will ever erase the black mark against your name. You tore apart your family, and for what? A quick romp in bed with that trollop Jeanette?"

Gaston bared his teeth and snapped, "You watch how you talk about my wife, boy! At least she isn't some cold fish like Belle. Or maybe her taste only runs to dark sorcerers, eh?"

"Shut up, you filthy lecher! Before I put an arrow right in your black heart," Rafe growled. "My mother is better than you ever deserved, and so is her husband. I'll never join you and your band of cutthroats, Dad. I'd shoot myself first! Oh, and one more thing . . . I'm no longer your son . . . my name is Raphael _Gold_ now . . . Gaston Marchand."

"_What?_ You've taken that hedge witch's name? What kind of spell does he have you under?" Gaston gasped. "You're a Marchand . . . my first born son!"

Rafe laughed mockingly. "Oh, _now_ I'm your son, when it's convenient for you? When I needed a father, you were never around, because you were off drinking and wenching and having yourself a good old time. You really did the Marchand name proud, didn't you, old man? Well, you can take your bloody Name and shove it up your ass! I've got a better one now . . . a name that I can respect and honor, like the man who gave me it. Rumplestiltskin Gold is ten times the man you'll ever be . . . and I'm _proud_ to call him my papa!"

Gaston stared at his son, his face slowly turning a reddish purple, like a ripe tomato. "You . . . you . . . cursed puling devil's whelp! You're just like your mother! Plague take you then . . . and _this_, you demon's get!" Then he bent his bow back, an arrow fitted to the string, pointed directly at Rafe's heart.

A coil of golden hair wrapped about Gaston's neck as Elaina tugged hard, pulling the big man off balance. "Nobody hurts Rafe!" she snarled, swinging about by her hair and landing on the ground just behind him, half-throttling Gaston and throwing off his aim.

His arrow skittered away as he gasped for breath.

Just before Elaina slammed him in the back of the head with her skillet.

As he toppled forward, his ears ringing, an icy voice said, "Good one, dearie, but I'll do you one better, and give you a final solution to this thorny problem. Because nobody hurts _my _son . . . or my _wife_!" Rumplestiltskin growled, giving Gaston a disgusted glance, like he would a roach he was about to step on, and flexing his fingers before saying, "Wear now the shape you have earned, and may you get no satisfaction from it!"

Then Gaston writhed . . . changing in an instant into a large rosebush, with dramatic red and gold petals and a multitude of thorns.

"When this is all over, we'll take it out and plant it in the garden. A nice fertilizer of sheep manure should make it grow even larger," Rumple declared.

"Papa, my hair!" Elaina cried, for now her hair was tangled up in the rosebush.

Rumple reached out and touched her head, and her braid untangled and rested down her back. "Stand back, dearie," he cautioned, as he turned and summoned a wintery gale that blew the advancing soldiers coming through the doors off their feet.

Elaina ran up the stairs to hug Rafe, who said, "You sure showed him not to mess with a Gold, sweetling! I like him much better as a rosebush. Now let's go and help Martin."

They ran across the way along with Graham, to help Martin, who was pinned down in the hospital, trying to fight off four of Regina's henchmen.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Down in Valley Way, Dirk and the other retired mercs who hung out at the Goose, as well as Hans, Rufus, the blacksmith, and some other local men, were gathered in the tavern, discussing the sudden arrival of Gaston's guardsmen.

"I don't like what they were shouting when they left here," Mike was saying. "Now, I've seen some stupid drunks before—namely you, Hans—but even drunk you ain't dumb enough to try and kill Archmagus Gold."

"_Kill_ him?" Hans snorted. "Hells bells, Mike, all he'd have to do is crook his finger and I'd be a fart in the wind."

"Well, all those big lugs were screaming about killing him earlier . . . and they were about fifty or more . . . including the handsome arrogant one that's their leader . . . Sir Gaston Marchand, one of his men said he was called," Mike declared.

"Who do they think they are, coming over here and threatening our sorcerer like that?" Dirk growled. "House Marchand's down by Briony way, not even part of Attica . . . and they're trying to start trouble here? Have themselves a witch hunt?"

The blacksmith cracked his knuckles together. "We don't hold with that sort of thing here. Gold's a good customer of mine . . . never cheated me and always pays me fair."

"Aye . . . and he don't magic people for nothing," Rufus added.

"He fixed my cow when I turned her into a statue," stated Master Cummings.

"And Belle cured my Sylvia when she took sick with a fever," added another.

"And Healer Belle's pregnant, with all those kids up there too . . ." added Lefty Louis.

"And that bunch of buggers are going to try and string him up for what?" snapped Tall Mick.

"They was screaming _kill the Beast_!" Mike cried.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I say let's kick their ass, boys!" Hans yelled, standing up and waving a pint before drinking it down.

"Yeah, hero! Anybody who wants to mess with the Gold sorcerer can mess with us too, right, lads?" Dirk shouted. A chorus of "yeah" echoed about the room. "All you members of the Purple Dragons, get your swords and crossbows and arm up! We've got some prissy asses from the back end of beyond to teach some manners to!"

"Right on, Dirk!" Hans bellowed. "Let's stomp them pricks like the giant tried t'do t'me that time when I stole the golden goose."

Rufus rolled his eyes. "Aww, gods! Not that old tale again. Give it a rest, Hans! And let me get my sword off the wall. Time for old Skull Crusher to kick some ass and take names."

The men gave a rousing yell and then scattered to get their weapons from locked chests and beneath hay bales and dusty shelves. The Gold sorcerer was one of their own, and no stuck-up witch hunters from the land beyond were going to hurt him or his family if they had anything to say about it.

Within twenty minutes, a force of about seventy men and boys had reassembled outside the Goose, armed with everything from crossbows to scythes and machetes, staves, spears, and swords. Some wore armor, others just a leather jerkin. Led by Hans, who wore his golden helmet and carried his huge hand-an-a-half sword in his fist, they marched up the road to the castle, singing loudly, "Kill the pricks! And their mothers! Screw 'em all . . . the sheep f-**ers!"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Regina's reserves were standing in ranks, waiting for the signal to rush into the castle, watching as their monarch flew about trying to counter the spells the sorcerer on the pegasus threw at the rest of them, while Hook, Milah, and his crew snuck in through the hole the night elves had created.

They were so busy watching Regina on her nightmare that they were caught totally by surprise as Hans and the company from Valley Way, many of whom were veterans of the Ogre Wars, came up the road . . . and attacked them from behind.

**A/N: And so the battle begins! How did you like the part with Rafe and Gaston? Myrnin and Ivy? And there's more to come! **

**Happy 4th of July to all my fellow Americans! **


	59. Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

**59**

**Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered**

As Regina's forces clashed with the company from Valley Way, Charming, Snow, Bae, and Rennie were riding like crazy to reach the Shepherd's homestead, where Bea waited under the wards Rumple had set to welcome Snow to her home for the time being.

Normally such a journey would take about twenty-five minutes on foot and fifteen on horseback because the area they traveled through was heavily wooded and difficult for a horse to navigate without breaking a leg if the rider went too fast over the rocky ground.

Now, however, they were forced to run their mounts at breakneck speed, or close to it, so they could get clear of the invaders. Snow on Rogue was ahead of all of them, as she gave the black mare her head, and Rogue raced quicker than the North Wind down the twisty rocky trail, the girl clinging to her back and thanking all the gods she'd learned to ride a horse before she could walk, and ride to hunt as well at her father's court.

"Don't stop for anything!" Charming had told her as they rode out. "Just ride to my house. We'll catch up later!"

So she followed his instructions, though it galled her to be running away while her family was fighting for their lives and their home, and she was part of the reason Regina had attacked them. Still, Rumple and Belle had made it clear to her the night before that she was not to remain inside the castle if the invaders managed to get inside, since it was her they wanted, she must be away from there and far beyond their reach.

"It's called survival, dearie. Run away to fight another day, Snow. There's no shame in it, and this way I'll know at least one of my daughters is safe," Rumple had told her.

When Snow would have protested, Belle said, "That's non-negotiable, Snow White. Regina wants you dead, and one of the easiest ways for her to accomplish that is for you to remain here when all the fighting starts. So go to the Shepherds and stay with Bea and Charming until this is all settled. You need to be alive in order to reclaim your kingdom someday."

Snow had agreed to abide by their dictates, like an obedient daughter, and thus she was racing over the rocky trail, praying Rogue didn't stumble into a hole and throw her, or break a leg.

Bringing up the rear were Charming on Steady, and Bae and Rennie on Flicker. Flicker, being Rogue's son, was quite fast, though his double burden slowed him down somewhat. Which proved to be a lucky thing, as he was close by when Gaston's knights caught up with Charming and tried to knock him off the bay destrier.

Steady spun as the first knight charged at him, wheeling about in a lightning maneuver trained into him long ago by his former master, one of the best knights to ever sit a horse. He brought Charming about so fast he barely had time to draw his sword before Steady reared, striking out with both front hooves, which smashed into the riding horse the knight was mounted on and almost knocked the poor beast to its knees.

Charming slammed his sword down on the startled knight's head, and Steady vaulted over the pair to land facing the four other knights that had followed them, screaming a war cry.

None of the other knights had a destrier, the horses cost the moon to own, and they were not fortunate enough to have the gold to purchase one or good enough to win one in a tournament. They were house knights, decent men-at-arms, but nothing spectacular. Two had swords, the other ones were armed with a mace and a morning star.

As the one with the mace attacked Charming, Bae turned Flicker and urged him towards one of the knights holding a sword. "Hey, ugly! Say hello to Azariel!"

Flicker, who was no coward when all was said and done, raced straight at the knight, maneuvering quick enough to get in a kick at the other horse's right hock, making the horse jump back and giving Bae time to strike at the knight.

The knight parried, but Bae was relentless, not letting up on the advantage he'd gained. And Azariel, made of magical silveron metal, turned the other's blows aside with ease, blunting the inferior iron the other knight's sword was made of.

The knight's companion, on a chestnut mare, charged at Bae as well, trying to hamstring Flicker or knock Bae out of the saddle with his sword. But he had discounted Rennie, who still had her shepherd's crook in hand.

As the knight on the mare attacked, she aimed the crook at his chest, holding it like a lance.

The knight was focused on Bae, and not the girl behind him, and so ran himself right onto her crook . . . knocking himself right out of the saddle and onto the ground.

Now he was unhorsed and vulnerable.

Before he could grab the reins, his mare fled, and as he turned slowly, his sword out, Charming and Steady defeated their opponent and the big bay destrier homed in on the enemy on the ground.

Before Charming could even give a signal, the bay stallion was prancing towards the unhorsed knight at a rapid trot, his great hooves thrusting out with the force of over a thousand pounds of solid horseflesh.

The knight tried to run, but it was futile. Steady overtook him and trampled him into the dirt, snorting furiously.

Bae feinted left, then stabbed his opponent in one quick lunge through the ribs, the knight was dead before he hit the ground. He reined Flicker up to try and meet the last knight with the morning star, but Charming and Steady had other ideas.

Having never ridden a mount like the bay stallion, it took Charming a few moments to realize that this was no ordinary horse, but a trained fighting machine, and he soon grasped that the destrier was the more skilled combatant. He patted the thick neck and whispered, "Come on, boy. Let's get that last bastard!" He heeled the stallion lightly and Steady bounded forward to meet the last knight.

The destrier's huge hooves shook the ground as he charged, and suddenly he reared up and jumped forward on his hind legs, lashing out with his front hooves to take down the enemy's horse.

The other horse, a brown gelding, screamed in terror as Steady struck, and was knocked sideways. As his rider tumbled half out of the saddle, Charming smashed him on the head with his sword, knocking him out.

"Blessed Epona, this's some horse!" Charming panted as he turned Steady about and sent him galloping after Snow again.

"Uh huh. He's a war horse, Jim. And if you think he's bad now, just wait till you see him in action if his rider gets unhorsed . . . he's like death on four legs," Bae said, and sent Flicker charging after Snow and Rogue.

Soon they reached the Shepherd farmstead, and there Bae and Rennie prepared to bid Snow goodbye, and Charming too, who would stay to protect her. Charming was about to dismount from Steady when Rennie slid off Flicker and said, "Stay on him, Jim. I'll stay here with Snow and Mistress Bea. Your sword's needed back at the castle and I can protect them as well as you can here."

Charming looked startled. "Ren, are you sure?"

"Yes. And my being here will make it easier on Bae too, right love?" she smiled at her boyfriend.

"Yes, but at least give me a kiss goodbye," Bae said, and he jumped off Flicker and kissed her lingeringly. "I love you, Ren."

"Love you too, now be safe," she whispered, then they parted.

Beside her, Charming was giving the same treatment to Snow, then he remounted Steady and they watched until Bea let the two girls into the cottage before they turned and headed back towards the castle, and the fighting that awaited them there.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Surprised by the sudden attack, Regina's reserves, which were mostly convicts turned into soldiers, found themselves taking a beating from the villagers, Hans, and the merc veterans, who had been in combat before and knew how to work as a unit. They targeted Regina's officers, who wore gold trees on their surcoats, and systematically cut them down to a man, leaving the raw recruits leaderless and unable to fight together.

Some of the convicts were murderers and stayed and fought until they were brought down, but others scattered and fled, running in sheer terror across the battlefield.

Inside the castle, Rumple managed to block the entrance with the hastily mended doors, though he knew it wouldn't hold for long. Then he summoned Jasmine's carpet to him and enchanted it quickly. Hopping on it, he flew out the window and soared into the sky, conjuring a tornado and setting it loose among some of Regina's men, and as the funnel of wind caused destruction in the ranks, he flew over them and tossed exploding beans down onto their heads as well as a fiery rain that stuck on contact, it was oil based and burned like dragonfire.

More men panicked and fled, frantic to escape the sorcerer who commanded the rain to burn and the wind to shred them to pieces.

Rumple winced at the screams of the dying, then thought grimly, _You chose to follow Regina and attack my home. Now you pay the price for it._

He took the carpet up high, searching for Regina on her nightmare.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Inside the castle, a group of Gaston's men had wandered into the kitchen.

The leader, a brawny fellow with blond hair, looked about and said, "Looks like no one's home, boys! Let's get ourselves some chow. All that fighting's making me starved!"

"Yeah, sergeant, let's see what they got in the pantry," said another, with black hair and a mustache.

He yanked open the pantry.

Only to be met by a broom and three wooden spoons floating in the air.

They set upon him like an angry housewife beating a mouse, whacking him over the head and shoulders.

"Ahh! They're possessed!" he screamed. "Help!" He turned to run and a spoon whacked his ass hard and the broom tangled between his feet, making him trip and fall.

As if that were a signal, all the drawers popped open and cleavers, forks, and other cooking implements flew to attack the invaders, including an entire butcher block of knives of all shapes and sizes.

The sergeant ran about the room, pursued by a filleting knife, a bread knife, and a ladle, all intent on carving him up.

Others screamed in horror as they were brained in the head with pots, lids, and stabbed with forks and knives.

One soldier tried to hide under the table as skewers and tongs assaulted him.

"Run!" the sergeant shrieked. "The kitchen's possessed! Get out!"

There was a mad dash for the door, though some got in each other's way and were stabbed before they could get away. The sergeant got hit on the head with a cleaver and knocked for a loop, his men left him sitting on the floor, dazed and confused, while an army of knives, wooden spoons, and other implements surrounded him like wolves on an injured lamb.

The remainder of the twelve men who had entered the kitchen ran bawling hysterically about cursed knive_s _and flying spoons and spatulas that tried to kill them down the hall and out of the castle where they hid in the bushes like scared little boys afraid of a well-deserved thrashing.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"What's happening down there?" Nick asked Jack as they listened to all the screaming, shouting, and cursing going on below and felt the castle shudder under the impact of the battering ram and the spells cast upon it.

Jack rolled his eyes. "How should I know? I'm not down there."

Clary came and hugged him, whimpering. "I'm scared, Jack. I want Mama."

"Shh. Don't be scared, Clary. That's just Papa down there, whipping all the bad guy's asses," he told her, hugging her back.

"And there're a lot of bad guys, so it's taking him a long time," added Finn, who was holding his flute in one hand.

They were in the playroom, along with Nick, Nora, Ariel, Tom, Gingy, Puss, and June, as well as Sweetie and Rowan. Kristen, Ruby, Aurora, Peter, Phillip, Jasmine, Rajah, Polaris, and Baron were in Myrnin's room just down the hall.

"I want to see what's going on," said Tom suddenly. He jumped up on Puss, holding his tiny bow and arrows tipped with sleep sap. "C'mon, Gingy!"

"Hold it!" Finn ordered. "You don't go anywhere without me." He stood up.

"Me too," said Jack, grabbing his practice spear from behind the door.

"All right. The rest of you stay here," Finn said. "Ariel, if anybody comes in here that doesn't belong, you know what to do. If more than one person comes, sic the toys on them, okay?"

All of them nodded solemnly.

Tom and Puss trotted out the door, along with Gingy on Candy Cane. Finn and Jack slipped out after them, shutting the door behind them.

Puss and Tom scampered to where the string was set for the marble trap and stayed there, listening hard.

Gingy rode Candy Cane out to the middle of the second floor and peered down the stairs.

Just in time to see Hook, Milah, Smee, and the rest of the pirates coming up.

"Uh oh," Gingy whimpered.

"Look, Cap'n!" Smee cried, pointing. "A gingerbread man! See? See?"

Hook stared at Gingy and frowned. "What the hell's a gingerbread man doing in the middle of the hallway like that?"

"I always wanted a gingerbread man, Cap'n!" Smee babbled. "But me mom could never bake one right!"

Milah rolled her eyes. "For gods' sake, Smee! You sound like you're five. Now the children should be somewhere up here. If we capture a few we can use them to get Rumple to surrender." She grinned slyly. "On second thought . . . I am kind of hungry . . ." She licked her lips.

"Oh, you don't want to eat me," Gingy squeaked. "I taste nasty, lady. Hey, wanna play? I know a great game. It's called knock 'em dead!" He made Candy Cane rear and run across the floor.

"Get that cookie!" Milah snarled.

"Can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!" Gingy yelled. "Now, Tom!"

Tom cut the string that released the marble trap using a pair of scissors set up for that purpose.

The box holding the marbles burst open and all the marbles tumbled out, rolling down the stairs, right under the pirates' boots.

"Ahh!" Hook yelped, grabbing onto the banister as he lost his footing and almost tumbled down the stairs. "Didn't anybody teach these damn kids to clean up their toys?"

Milah sprawled on her face, grabbing onto a stair tread to keep from falling. "James! Pull me up!" she cried.

Behind her, Smee slipped and fell, landing on her knees. "Oof! Sorry, First Mate! It's slippery!"

"Get off me, you idiot!" Milah screeched.

The other pirates behind them weren't so lucky. They tripped on the marbles bouncing around and fell, bashing their heads, chins, knees, and elbows.

Some of them tumbled right down the stairs, others were cursing and trying to regain their balance, knocking into their fellow cutthroats.

Gingy pranced back into view on Candy Cane, laughing. "See? I told you it was a great game!"

"Yeah! We can play it till somebody gets knocked dead!" Tom cried, walking out on Puss. Then he aimed one of his sleep sap arrows at a pirate and shot him in the leg.

The pirate laughed . . . until he toppled over, snoring.

"What the hell, Cap'n?"

"A pixie!" sputtered Hook. "I _hate_ pixies! Get him!" He charged up the stairs after Tom on Puss, tripping on the marbles.

"And that cookie too! I hate when food laughs at me!" Milah yelled, scrambling to her feet and running after her husband.

A few of the pirates got up first, though, and they chased Tom and Gingy down the hallway.

"Quick, Tom! Get in here!" Jasmine cried, opening up the door to Myrnin's room.

As the two mini children sprinted towards the door, Kristen and Ruby came out, blurring into a wolf and a golden bear.

The three pirates racing down the hallway stopped so abruptly they crashed into each other. Then they screamed and ran the other way, down the east wing.

"A bear!"

"Cap'n, a wolf!"

"Wild beasts!" shrieked the third.

"All right! Go Kris and Ruby!" Jack cheered.

More pirates came up, followed by Hook, Milah, and Smee.

Some of them saw the children standing there, but others surrendered to the lure of the treasure glittering down the east wing, and raced down it, only to be caught by the traps Rumple and Jeff had set. Some became wrapped in sticky webs and held fast. Others were shot with poisoned darts and still others were frozen to the floor.

The pirates were soon joined by another band of Regina's men.

Four of them spotted Finn, Jack, and Jasmine and started towards them, crooning, "Come here, kids! We've got some candy and surprises for you!"

"Uh huh. And I've got a surprise for you too," Finn sneered. Then he set his flute to his lips and played a catchy fast dance tune, infusing it with magic—the same tune he'd gotten spanked over when he'd played it for Mattie Raynor when he was eight.

Immediately the four pirates fell under the command of the music, and began to dance a hornpipe. Then a jig. They pirouetted around on their toes, twirling like tops.

Finn played faster.

The faster he played, the faster they danced, unable to stop.

"Cap'n! They're bewitched!" Smee cried.

Hook slid to a stop, shaking his head. "Damn it! Quick, give me your bandanna, Smee!"

"Huh? What you want it for, sir?"

"Just give me it!" Hook roared, grabbing his bo'sun and shaking him.

Smee gave him the red bandanna about his neck.

Hook shredded it into strips and stuffed two of them into his ears, then gave the rest to Milah. "Bloody mage brat! I ought to have run him through that day on the beach!"

"How about me, Cap'n? I can't dance!" Smee whined.

"Here, and stop whining, you idiot!" Milh growled, giving Smee the last of the cloth to put in his ears.

Their ears stuffed with cloth, they weren't compelled by Finn's song, and they started up the corridor, drawing their swords as they did so.

"You'll play that flute much better, boy, without a head!" Hook growled at Finn.

Before he could reach the musician, however, Rajah, Baron, and Rowan bounded into the hallway, snarling ferociously.

"Gods above! A freakin' tiger!" Milah screamed.

"And a bloody huge bear!" Hook cried, backpedaling as Baron charged at him.

Rajah roared and sprang at the pirate crew, and Smee froze, unable to move . . . until Rowan bit him hard.

"Ahhh! Yee-oww! Cap'n, my ass! My ass!" he shrieked, running in circles with Rowan baying furiously and snapping at his heels.

"Come on, you jackass!" Milah shouted, grabbing Smee by the collar and dragging him down the hall. "Before we're tiger chow! Jimmy, this way, hurry!" They ran down the short passage that led to the library and the solar. Hook bolted after them, Rajah hot on his heels.

Behind her, Polaris charged out of the bedroom, growling and barking. He ran between the twirling dancing pirates, and right up to one of Regina's soldiers.

"Aww! A puppy! How cute!" the soldier crooned, and bent to pet the little sheepdog.

An instant later he howled in agony as Polaris bit the thing closest to him. "My balls! Oh, my gods! Get it off! Get it off!"

"Good going, Polaris!" Tom chuckled evilly, darting out again on Puss and shooting the shrieking soldier with one of his arrows.

The man collapsed onto the floor, with Polaris still growling and barking, until Tom called him off.

"C'mere, you little pipsqueak!" roared one of the soldiers, and snatched Tom up off of Puss as she ran by, holding him in two fingers.

"Hey! Let me go, you fat slob!" Tom squeaked.

The soldier grinned cruelly. "Now you behave, you little troublemaker . . . or I'll pull off your arms and legs, y' hear?"

"Tom!" Jack yelled upon seeing his brother caught by the cruel soldier. "Let him go, asshole!" He charged up the hallway at the man, his spear held low.

The soldier sneered at him. "Go play in the street, kid. Before I beat you to a pulp and roast you over a fire." He shook Tom pointedly, sniggering.

"Up yours, prick!" Jack growled. "I _said_ let him go!" He thrust, bringing the spear up hard . . . right between the soldier's legs.

The soldier opened his mouth in a silent scream, dropping Tom.

Jack put out his hand, catching his brother and pulling back on the spear at the same time, tangling it between the soldier's feet and sending him crashing to the ground. "Take that, you stupid bastard!" He put Tom on his shoulder and whacked the gasping soldier over the head, knocking him senseless.

"Thanks, Jack!" Tom said. "Thought I was a goner for a minute! But boy, are you lucky Papa can't hear what you just said. You'd be eating a whole bar of soap."

"Umm . . . yeah, I know. But that scum deserved it," Jack said.

He backed away, intending to rejoin Finn at the other end of the hallway, when more soldiers charged up the stairs. "Aww, hells!" he groaned.

"It's one of the sorcerer's brats!" a soldier cried. "Let's cut off his head and parade it on a pike for the Dark One to see!"

Jack brought his spear up in a block, but the soldier was too strong, and knocked the spear out of his hand. The boy backed away, knowing he was in serious trouble.

The soldier advanced, his eyes cold as death. He brought his sword up for a strike.

Jack cowered on the floor.

"Jack!" Finn yelled, then he played another melody on his flute, his fingers striking several harsh notes at once.

The soldier's body hardened to ice mid-strike. Then it shattered into pieces.

Finn lowered his flute then, his green eyes hard. "Kill my brother, will you? Like hell!"

Jack scrambled to his feet and picked up his spear, running back down the hallway. "Finn! You just . . . uh . . . totally wrecked that guy."

"I know. Get back in the room. I'll handle the rest of them." He set his flute to his lips again as more soldiers came down the hallway.

"I'll help!" Ariel said, then she began to sing, her voice so hauntingly lovely that the five soldiers in range of her song smiled and bowed to her.

"Command us, beautiful lady!"

"Protect us, brave ones!" Ariel sang, her voice throbbing with a mermaid's power of beguilement.

The soldiers turned and attacked their fellows behind them, ignoring their comrades' shouts of horror.

The pirates that Finn had ensorcelled came out of their dancing trance, shaking their heads and glaring at the young musician.

But before they could do anything to him, Baron attacked them, grabbing one in a hug that crushed the breath from his body.

The other two fled, running down the corridor to the east wing.

The other one ran into the playroom, sword out, and smirked when he saw Clary, June, Nick, Nora, and Sweetie. "Well, will you look at this? It's the Dark One's brats! You know what I do to sorcerer's brats?"

"Get outta here, you scurvy dog!" Nick cried, clenching his fists.

"Make me!" the pirate taunted.

"Look at the pretty lights, mister!" June cried, and she blew bubbles from her wand and lit them up with her magic, making them sparkle and float all over the playroom, like twinkling jewels. For a few moments, the pirate's attention was caught by them, and he stared, mesmerized.

Then he blinked, and snarled, "I'll teach you to enchant me, you little witch!" He started towards the children.

Clary glared at him. "Get him!"

The toy boxes popped open and an army of small soldiers sprang out of two boxes, running over to attack the pirate.

He started to laugh, but then all of Clary's dolls jumped up from her table and off the shelves clutching scissors and small pen knives, and stalked towards him.

They laughed, a cold hollow sound. "Eehahahaheehahaha!"

The pirate paled. "Get away!" he yelled, slicing his sword at the toys.

The toys kept coming.

"Noo! Get away, you demon things!" the pirate screeched.

The toys attacked, stabbing the pirate in the legs and feet and shrieking their terrible laugh.

"Eeehahaheeehahaeehaha!"

The pirate took to his heels and fled, screaming about evil dolls and demons, running right down the stairs, where he slipped on some marbles and slammed into a pillar, knocking himself silly.

Back in the playroom, Nick gave Clary a high five and cried, "Yes! The Revenge of the Voodoo Queen strikes again! And you were great too, Junie!"

Once the pirate was gone, the dolls and toy soldiers came back and returned to the toy box as if nothing had ever happened.

Jack and Tom came back into the playroom. "You guys okay?" he asked.

"We're fine," June said softly. "A bad man tried to get in here, but Clary and Nick made the toys attack him and he ran away."

"Good for you!" Jack said.

"Where're Finn and Ariel?" asked Nora.

"Out there, making friends with some of the soldiers," Jack explained.

"Friends?" Nora gasped.

"Yeah, with Ariel's magic," Jack told her. "She's bewitching them so they'll fight for us."

"Is it working?" Nick wanted to know.

"Yeah. I just hope Bae, Rennie, Rafe, and Elaina are okay," Jack said.

Just then they heard Ariel stop singing, then she and Finn returned to the playroom and shut the door.

"Are the nasty men gone, Finn?" Clary asked, hugging Sweetheart.

"Yeah, snippet, they are. For now," her brother sighed, sinking down to the floor and rubbing his eyes. He felt exhausted and also slightly sick to his stomach. His father had been right, he thought, using battle magic really did take it out of you. He felt more tired than he had playing for three hours straight at the holiday concert.

Clary came over and curled up in his lap. "I'm sleepy, Finn."

He put an arm about her. "Me too. Think I'll just . . . take a nap. You keep watch, Jack."

Just then Rowan scratched on the door, and Jack opened it and let her, Puss, and Gingy inside.

"Okay, Finn," Jack said.

Finn shut his eyes, wishing that Rumple were there to talk to. He would understand how turning that pirate into ice and shattering him made the young bard feel sick inside, even though by doing so he had saved Jack's life. _You were right, Papa. Killing's easy, it's dealing with it afterwards that's hard. Please be okay. Please._

Clary snuggled into his chest and he smiled down at his small sister. _But I'd do it again if I had to, gods help me._ Then he closed his eyes and slept.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Down the hallway, in Myrnin's room, the girls shifted back to their normal shapes, and they and Jasmine began petting Baron, Rajah, and Polaris. "Are all of you okay?" asked Aurora, clutching her pointed spindle. "Fine, Rory," said Ruby. "We're just tired." They lay on Myrnin's bed while Peter and Phillip shot bullets filled with sticky molasses, paint, glue, and cooking oil out the window onto Gaston's men who were attempting to scale the walls.

"That's two for me, Pete!" Phillip said.

"And one more for me," his brother added. "That makes ten altogether."

"And I've got eight so far," Phillip said. He hit a lady on a black ugly horse with a bullet filled with glue. "Got another one! That's nine!"

Peter groaned and aimed at another soldier. He couldn't let his seven-year-old brother beat him.

"I just nailed one in the eye. That's two points."

"Says who?" Phillip demanded indignantly.

"Me," Peter smirked. Then he bent down to reload his slingshot. "Who'd you hit before?"

"Some lady in a black dress on this butt-ugly horse," Phillip shrugged.

Peter gaped at him. "_No way!_ You . . . you hit _Regina_ . . . the Evil Queen!"

"I did?" Phillip grinned. "That's worth like a . . . trillion points! Whoo hoo!"

"Aww, brother!" Peter moaned. "How am I ever gonna beat _that_?"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Regina was concentrating hard, trying to summon up a Gorgon, when something hard hit her in the back of her head, breaking her concentration. "Oww!" she cried, one hand going to her head.

Her hand came away sticky with . . . glue.

"Ugh! What is this . . . stuff?" she demanded, wriggling her fingers. "Glue? Disgusting! Now I have _glue_ in my hair! And I just lost my concentration, damn it!"

She looked at the castle, scowling, then she turned Lilith about and started down to roast some more of Alice's mercenaries, who seemed to have fought her forces to a standstill. She couldn't find Hook, Milah, or Gaston, and assumed they had managed to get into the castle. She surveyed her forces, noting that they had been rather decimated by Rumple's elemental magic. She had lost at least half of them to his spells.

Just then she saw that miserable youngster on the pegasus that was bedeviling the _dwarrow_. _He_ had killed over two thirds of them. She wondered which one of Rumple's wretched children this was. Lifting her wand, she sent a bolt of withering power at him.

Myrnin looked up and blocked the bolt with a casual gesture, sending it skittering off his shield.

It hit one of the Nightlords instead, and the night elf shriveled up like a dried fig.

Regina cursed him roundly, then almost fell off her mount when a gust of wind slammed into her.

"Nice weather we're having, aren't we, dearie?" Rumple queried as he hovered just out of range on his flying carpet.

Regina clung to the pommel of her saddle. "Rumplestiltskin!"

"That's my name, dearie, don't wear it out," he smirked, lifting a hand with a fireball in it. "Want to play ball, Regina?"

"Only with your head, Rumple!"

"I've grown kind of attached to it, I'm afraid, so that's out," he said, his brown eyes hard and cold.

"How about we end this here and now?" Regina purred.

Rumple arched an eyebrow.

"You and me . . . with a wizard's duel. Whoever's left standing at the end of it wins."

"Is that a deal, dearie?" Rumple growled.

Regina smiled coldly. "It's the only deal in town, Rumple."

"And if I win you'll take your vagabond army and your friends and leave and never come back? And quit trying to harm Snow?"

"_If_ you win!" laughed the Evil Queen. "And that's a very big _if_!"

"Done, Regina!" he accepted. Then he tossed the fireball at her face.

**A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter! Hope you had as much fun reading it! It's almost here! The final showdown! Regina vs. Rumple and Milah vs. Belle and Hook vs. Jeff and Bae! Plus Myrnin vs. Zist and a few other surprises! Who will win?**


	60. The Best Revenge

**60**

**The Best Revenge**

Bae and Charming arrived back at the castle just in time to attack the remaining company of Gaston's men that were not inside the castle. They were still scrambling up the slope past the thorn hedge when Bae and Charming rode up and attacked them on their right flank. For a few moments, the fighting was fierce, with Charming and Steady fighting off two and three opponents at once, and Charming thanked Epona again for such a mount. It was like having a whole company beneath him, as the stallion bit and trampled enemies into a red ruin beneath his huge hooves.

Beside him, Bae fought with the consummate grace of the born swordsman, countering every thrust and parrying the slashes of Gaston's guardsmen with lightning speed. Now he thanked Bellona, goddess of war, that Jeff and Alice had pushed him as hard as they had during their sparring sessions, attacking him two on one, forcing him to learn how to counter multiple attacks at the same time. In a melee like this, he had to be able to judge within a split second where an enemy was going to strike and counter on one stroke and then turn and counter again on the opposite flank.

Flicker also helped, but not by shying away like he normally did. Instead the chestnut colt proved his true mettle by carrying Bae through the mass of soldiers, kicking them and moving so quickly they hardly had time to strike at his master. He had not been trained for war like Steady, but he showed all the courage and devilish quickness of his mother Rogue that day, fighting with the true heart and loyalty of a destrier. Like his master, he had hidden depths that showed themselves with adversity.

As Bae fought three guardsmen, Charming turned and parried a soldier on his left, a big man who almost reached the top of his saddle. The enemy soldier struck hard, rocking Charming back in the saddle, and for a moment he was off balance. That slight mistake caused his opponent to grab his leg and heave him out of the saddle.

He landed on the ground, wheezing as the breath was knocked from him.

That might have been the finish for him but for Steadfast.

As Bae had said to him before they left the Shepherds, Steady was trained to fight with or without a rider, and when his rider was unhorsed, to become death on four legs. Charming knew the destrier was formidable, but even he didn't realize what the big bay stallion was capable of until then.

The destrier knew immediately that his knight was in danger, and he acted to protect him, by attacking everyone within range of his hooves and teeth. Screaming in rage, Steady lunged at the closest guardsman, seizing the soldier in his great jaws and biting down hard.

The man screamed as his arm was crushed and the enraged stallion tossed him onto the dirt and stomped on him until he lay still.

Then he whirled and attacked the next soldier trying to stab Charming, trampling him into the ground before the man could even move. His great hooves smashed through shields and armor, rendering foes broken like ragdolls. Nothing got past him, anyone that tried was quickly smashed into a bleeding pulp.

In the minutes it took Charming to get his breath back and get to his feet, Steady had killed twelve men, and the rest of them backed away, unable to face the red demon who attacked them like a beast from hell.

"Jim! You okay?" Bae called upon seeing his friend on the ground.

"Just got the wind knocked out of me," Charming said, and moved to jump onto Steady's back.

The destrier screamed a challenge, but did not object to having his knight mounted on him once more. Charming patted the thick neck, murmuring, "Well done, Steady! You saved my ass sure enough! Gods, what a horse you are!"

The rest of Gaston's guardsmen were backing away, terrified of the two, especially the one mounted on the demon steed. Charming waved his sword and sent Steady into a trot, and the stallion reared and leaped into the rest of the soldiers, lashing out with both rear and front hooves, knocking soldiers flying like ninepins. His eyes blazing, he screamed a war cry, and the earth shook as he landed, surefooted as a cat, upon the ground.

"Hey, Shepherd!" Bae called, coming up beside them. "Let's send these whimpering milksops running home to their mommies!"

"My thoughts exactly!" Charming answered. He heeled Steady and charged the remaining twelve guardsmen.

Bae did the same on Flicker, holding Azariel before him, his eyes narrowed to grim slits beneath his winged helmet. "Yah! Go back home where you belong, you dog-faced yellow-bellied cowards! Quick, before I nail your hide to the ground for starting shit with me and my family!"

The ground trembled as they rode down the invaders, who scattered like chaff before a farmer's scythe, breaking and running without any objective save to get away as quickly as possible from the vicious warriors on the devil steeds.

Bae and Charming chased them to the edge of the property before hauling on the reins and turning their mounts around to head back to the yard.

They removed the saddles from their mounts and placed them back in their stalls with some hay before slipping back through the secret passage inside the castle.

In the foyer, fighting was still going on, and Charming joined some more Card Captors as they battled the Evil Queen's forces. Bae hesitated, then said, "I need to go check on my mother, make sure she's okay. I'll be right back!" He turned and raced over to the sitting room, where he knew Belle had set up her hospital.

But upon entering the room, which was thick with the stench of blood and the moans of the wounded and dying, he saw no sign of his mother. He glanced down at the wounded men, debating on whether to ask one of them where she was, when he recalled the plan Jefferson and Rumple had discussed before the castle was attacked. If the castle defenses were breached, then Jeff would take Belle upstairs through the secret passage in the fireplace.

Clearly, the defenses had been compromised, so that was where they had gone. Bae raced to the fireplace and tapped the sequence of bricks necessary to open the secret way. When the door opened, he ducked inside and shut the door, then made his way through the long winding tunnel to the end, which would take him to the library on the second floor, Azariel held lightly in his right hand.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Upstairs in the library, Belle and Granny crouched in a corner of the library, one of the few places as yet untouched by the fighting going on elsewhere in the castle. They felt the castle shudder several times due to the spells cast upon its walls and several books fell off the shelves. Neither woman made any move to pick them up.

They could hear, faintly, the sounds of battle below on the first floor, and Belle clenched her fists tightly in her bloodied apron, and prayed they were winning, or at least managing to make the invaders pay for attacking their home as much as possible. Her candlestick with its lone candle burned upon a small table, along with three others Granny had lit once they came out of the secret passage across the room. They cast flickering shadows across the room upon the floor.

"How do you think it's going down there?" Belle asked tightly.

Granny, whose ears could hear better than hers, said softly, "I don't know. But I'd assume, since soldiers haven't penetrated this far, that it's going better than we expected."

"I can guarantee that those bastards of Regina's never expected anything like they got stepping foot on these grounds," Jefferson said from his post beside the door. "Rum sure knocked them on their pretentious craven asses with his defenses."

Belle shuddered as another tremor rocked the castle. "I hope . . . he's okay. I just keep thinking about something happening . . . and I feel like running downstairs and finding him . . . just so I can know . . ." She put a hand over her belly, and felt the babies within her kicking. "I don't want them to grow up having never seen their papa."

"Don't go borrowing trouble, Belle," Granny put in. "That husband of yours is plenty savvy and he's stronger than any magician I ever knew."

"Yeah, if I know Rum, he's found some way to survey the whole battlefield and still kick everybody's ass while he's doing it," Jeff added, his hand clenched on his sword.

"What about Regina? I've heard stories . . . is she a match for him?" Belle asked worriedly.

Jeff shrugged. "It's hard to say. She's a follower of the dark path, all right. But I've never seen her in a position of anything but absolute authority. She's good at getting what she wants, or people to do things for her, good at terrorizing children like Snow and chopping off heads and ripping out people's hearts that don't please her, but . . . in a one-on-one fight against a sorcerer like Rum . . . unless she cheats or something, I don't see her beating him. Rum knows tactics and strategy, and he knows how to demoralize an enemy. Trust him, Belle. He promised he'd come back. We've got to believe that."

"I know. It's just so hard . . . when people are fighting and dying all around me . . . to still have hope that this will all be over . . . and we'll still be standing at the end of it," Belle whispered, biting her lip hard. "My best friend's fighting down there . . . and my children are stuck in two rooms up here and I don't even know if they're okay . . ." Her blue eyes filled with tears and trickled down her cheeks, try as she did to stop them. "Thanks to those bastards down there, I can't even help the wounded . . ."

Granny hugged her. "You did what you could in the time we had. Sometimes the gods call us home when we least expect it. Would you like me to go and check on the children? I can at least see how they're faring?"

"But it's not safe for you to go out . . ." Belle began, taking comfort in the old woman's embrace.

"Safer for me than you," Granny snorted. "Remember what I am."

"Even werewolves can be killed," Belle said.

"Only by silver weapons. And I doubt if most of those scum are armed with them," Granny said. "Wait here for me to return. Jeff, I'll be back soon."

With that, Granny shifted into her wolf form, becoming the huge wolf once again. Jeff opened the door for her and she trotted out into the corridor wrinkling her nose at the stench of blood and death coming from down the hallway. She loped down the hall.

Back in the library, Jeff turned to Belle and said, "We'll just sit tight here and wait till she returns. And I'm praying you don't suddenly start having contractions. You're all right, aren't you?"

Belle nodded. "Yes. I've had . . . twinges, but nothing serious. You'd think, with all this, I'd be having problems, but thank the gods I'm not. I'm sorry you're stuck up here, guarding fat old me, when I'm sure you'd rather be down there, bashing heads beside Alice."

"Hey, don't talk like that," Jeff reproved. "Alice knows the score. You're my best friend's wife, carrying his kids, and guarding you is just as important as giving those pansy-ass cutthroats a sound thrashing. Which I'm sure Rum and Alice are doing all by their lonesome. And who knows? Some of those rotten scoundrels might make it up here and give me a workout too."

As if his words were a catalyst, the connecting door to the library from the solar opened, and in walked Hook, Milah, and Smee.

"Well, well," sneered Hook upon catching sight of Jefferson and Belle. "What have we here? Regina's cowardly advisor and the sorcerer's wench! With a bun in the oven! Guess the devil still has rocks after all, eh, Milah? Thought you'd emasculated him?"

Milah chuckled. "Unless he used magic there, Jimmy! Gods know, he wasn't anything too great in _that _department. I practically had to do all the work myself!"

"You're disgusting!" Belle glowered, glaring at the three pirates. "My husband is a real man, unlike the cutthroat _you_ skived off with, Milah! At least I don't have to wash the blood of innocents off my hands after I touch him! And every time he touches me, it's like the ecstasy of the gods! You only _wish_ you had it as good, you unfaithful bitch!"

"She shows fight!" Hook chortled. "I like that in a captive! More for me to beat out of her. Tie her up for me, won't you, darling?" he told Milah.

Jefferson moved then, his sword out and ready. "Over my dead body, Captain Hook! And yours too, Milah!"

"You'd actually attack me, Jeff?" Milah queried. "Thought you didn't hurt women?"

"You're not a woman any longer, Milah! Just a cutthroat buccaneer who needs a new smile about six inches from your mouth," Jeff spat. "And I'd be happy to give it to you!"

Hook drew his cutlass with his good hand. "I've heard you were good, once upon a time. Let's see, shall we?" Then he lunged at Jefferson.

Their swords met with a sharp clang.

Jefferson riposted, making Hook give ground, backing into the solar. He followed, praying he could end this quickly and stop Milah from hurting Belle. He lunged, in a classic forward thrust, then turned his blade at the last second and thrust low, at Hook's knees, making the pirate hop backwards.

Milah drew her cutlass and advanced upon the pregnant Belle. "Stand still, brood mare, and I'll make this quick. You'll be my hostage, and we'll make that milksop you call a husband beg on his knees for Regina to spare your life and those of his unborn babes!"

"In order to have me as a hostage, you hag, you'll have to catch me first!" Belle spat, and grabbed a book off the shelf and tossed it at Milah's head.

Her aim was good, and the copy of _Techniques on Warfare_ hit Milah right in the face.

"Oww! You bloody wench!" the pirate cursed at her. "I think you gave me a black eye!"

"That'd be an improvement, harpy!" Belle ran as quickly as she could towards the wall where the secret entrance was. But before she could get to it, it opened, and Bae came through.

"Baelfire!" Belle gasped, holding her bulging belly as she skidded to a halt.

"Mom, are you okay?" he queried as the passageway snapped shut behind him.

"Just . . . a little winded, son," Belle said, trying to breathe.

"Hey! He's _my_ son, not yours, stepmother!" Milah growled, coming around a bookshelf.

Bae stepped protectively in front of Belle, his sword held low. "You mean you _were_ my mother!" he retorted, his eyes flashing. "Before you abandoned me and our family to go screw that smarmy piece of shit that crawled ashore one night at the docks."

Milah halted, lowering her cutlass a fraction. "Baelfire . . . you don't understand. Any more than your sister did. I needed to get away from that stinking village, from your cowardly crippled father. You were too little to remember what it was like—the way they all whispered and laughed behind my back, sneering at me for being tied to a cringing dog like your father, who ran away instead of giving his honorable service to the duke, who was a cripple who couldn't do anything right but spin yarn and take care of whiny brats all day. I needed a real man, someone who could actually give me more than headaches and excuses. I would have taken you with me—"

"Don't make me laugh . . . _Mother_," Bae sneered. "You couldn't wait to get shut of us. You didn't care about me or Ivy, all you cared about was yourself! Papa worked his ass off for you and what'd it get him? Nothing except your nasty tongue shredding him to pieces! You want to know what I remember best about those years before you left, huh? I remember you always shouting at Papa, yelling at him for not bringing home enough money, or getting enough to eat when everyone was starving, and you never had a kind word for him or me! It was always, Baelfire, go away, I'm busy! Baelfire, quit whining before I smack you upside the head! Half the time I was afraid to go near you because I never knew when you were going to hit me for something I didn't even do. I used to hide under my bed and not come out till Papa came home, and then you'd start screaming at him next! And the only time I felt good was when _he _held me and rocked me to sleep at night."

"Of course you'd remember it that way. Your father was always too nice, too much of a pansy ass to discipline you when you needed it," Milah sneered. "Like he was too much of a coward to fight in the Ogre Wars. I couldn't live like that anymore, Baelfire. The way people sneered at us behind our backs, it was enough to make me sick. And then he got me pregnant again, and what did I have to look forward to? A life of drudgery, being the wife of a coward and a cripple. Once I was the beau of the village, and every boy wanted my hand. And I chose your father out of all of them, even though he couldn't even meet my eyes half the time and he stuttered when he spoke to me. I should have known then he was no good, more fool I!"

Bae's jaw tightened until he feared it would snap. "You're wrong . . . _Milah._ Papa was better than you deserved. Papa's no coward, there's nothing cowardly about not wanting to throw your life away for some pompous ass who can't even be bothered to train his recruits in basic warfare for twelve weeks, so they don't go out and get killed the first time they face an enemy. The duke was a bloody idiot, he treated his people like they were expendable, like they were chess pieces. I'd have quit too! He came home for _you_, Milah, for you and for me, for his family! How can you fault him for that? Then again, you've never cared half as much about us, have you? Or else you'd never have run off with that slick pirate! You chose him over us. You chose yourself over your family. Now reap what you've sown, pirate's woman!"

He said that last with all the condescension he could muster, all the disgust he felt toward this woman, who had made his early years and his father's life hell.

Milah glared furiously at her firstborn. "How dare you talk to me like that? You're father's son all right, Baelfire! A whimpering milksop just like he is! But I'm not surprised, given he had the raising of you."

"I thank the gods everyday he did, mistress! Otherwise I'd have become a bloody cutthroat instead of a man people can respect," Bae snapped.

"Get out of my way, boy, and let me finish what I started!" Milah growled.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore, mistress!" Bae told her. "And if you want to hurt my mom, you can go through me first!"

"That's not your mother!" Milah shouted, incensed.

"She's more my mother than you ever were!" Bae yelled.

"Watch how you talk to my wife, boy!" shouted Hook, as he parried another blow by Jefferson. "But I'll teach you manners after I finish with this old man here!"

"Old man? I'll show you old, you filthy scalawag!" Jefferson growled, then he stepped up his attack routine a notch, pushing the one-handed pirate hard.

They went back and forth from the library to the solar, neither gaining an advantage over the other for a few moments. Hook had learned, in the months he had lost his hand, to compensate for his loss, and he was an excellent fencer. He also had learned to use his hook as a weapon.

Jefferson was a brilliant swordsman, still capable of fighting an opponent to a standstill, even one as good as Hook. But it had been a long time since he had fought in such tight quarters, and when he backed off after blocking a shot to his liver, his foot trod upon a book that had been knocked off a shelf. He stumbled, though he recovered almost immediately.

Unfortunately that misstep cost him, as Hook lunged with his hooked hand, and caught Jeff across the upper bicep, cutting a deep slash in his arm.

"Got you, you poxy son of a whore!" Hook cheered.

Blood began running down Jeff's arm, pooling stickily on the floor. He knew it was not a mortal wound, but nevertheless it was serious, and it would slow him down. And facing an opponent of Hook's caliber, that was a severe disadvantage, one that could cost him his life.

He backed slowly away, trying to stay inbetween the shelves, where Hook couldn't get a full swing at him, feeling himself grow lightheaded.

"Jeff!" Belle cried, her heart in her throat as she saw the blood trail he was leaving on the carpet. Suddenly she whirled on Baelfire and cried, "Bae! Go help Jeff! Don't worry about me, I can handle Mistress Tall, Dark, and Dastardly."

Bae hesitated for about a fraction of a second before he sprinted over to help his mentor. "Jeff, get away!" he called, coming up behind the other warrior. "I can take him!"

"Bae, be careful!" Jeff said, defending frantically. "He's good." He took another step back, leaving room for Bae to step in front of him and face Hook.

When Hook's sword met Bae's elven blade, Jeff disengaged, clamping a hand over his bleeding arm. He looked over to see how Belle was faring, and saw Milah advancing on her with her sword drawn. "Belle! Damn you, Milah, leave off! Don't you have any shred of human decency? She's with child!"

"Like that makes a difference, Hatter!" Milah laughed. "Come here, wench! You'll serve us better than one of your whining brats. Rumple will give us the moon to get you back. And once he does, we'll have you kick the bucket and make him watch. He took away my children, it's only fair I take away his!"

Belle backed away, her hand groping for a weapon. "You're sick, Milah! It was you, not Rum, who drove away your own children. Killing me won't make them love you. Instead they'll hate you even more than they already do."

"Shut your trap, you pathetic princess! You couldn't even defend your own kingdom! And you married a worthless man who couldn't even protect you when it counted," Milah said, stalking her adversary like a cat stalked a mouse. "Too bad, but then that's what you get when you marry a coward like Rumple!"

Belle's hand closed over the candlestick sitting on the small table in the corner. Her heart was thundering in her chest, she was so scared she was surprised she wasn't trembling, but Milah's condemning words towards Rumple gave her the courage she needed to stand against the other woman, who was everything Belle was not.

"I might have married a coward, according to you, but better that than a murdering bastard!" Belle shouted. "Or a woman like you, who blames others for her own poor decisions! You're a pathetic excuse for a mother, Milah, and you don't deserve such wonderful children. I warned you once, don't mess with my family!"

"Ooh, now I'm scared!" laughed the pirate. "You've got me shaking in my boots, wench! What do you think you can do to me, big-bellied with Rumples brats? Talk me to death?" she laughed mockingly, drawing closer, her sword pointed right at Belle's middle.

But her arrogance was her undoing.

"Stupid ass, don't you know anything?" sneered the Healer. "The deadliest creature in all the realms is a mother defending her young!" Then she moved, swinging the candlestick with all her strength.

She struck Milah right on the temple, in a place where it only required a minimum amount of force to hurt her, as she knew quite well from her anatomy lessons with Miranda.

The pirate went down like a poleaxed steer and lay still on the floor.

"Ha! You sure showed that miserable bitch, Belle!" Jefferson crowed. The blood flowing from his arm had slowed somewhat, though it still leaked out from his fingers.

"Maybe now she'll get a clue, Jeff," Belle smirked.

"Right on! Belle Gold with the candlestick in the library," Jeff chuckled.

Just then they turned and heard a cry from Hook.

The pirate was now bleeding from a slash on his midsection, backing off as Bae advanced on him, thrusting and lunging quick and hard, Azariel singing a war song as he brought the elven blade about and locking hilts with the older man.

This was a tactic Hook had often tried with inexperienced opponents, and nine times out of ten he'd been able to disarm his adversary and then slice him to ribbons.

But Bae was no novice swordsman, and he was both younger and stronger than Hook, who had lost most of his edge wintering with Regina, where he'd been carousing and making merry with the palace monarch instead of honing his fencing technique. As soon as he locked hilts with the pirate, Bae used all his strength to shove Hook hard.

The pirate staggered against a bookshelf, bringing his sword up hastily to block, his arm trembling. He tried to cut Bae with his hook hand, like he had Jeff, but Bae was wearing silveron armor, the princely gift of the elf king, and it turned aside the thrusting hook as if it were but cheap tin.

Over balanced, Hook drew away, trying desperately to recover, but Bae was on him like Puss on a cockroach, pressing his advantage, tangling up Hook's cutlass in Azariel's blade and yanking hard.

It was the same maneuver he'd used against Lucky Larry in the festival tournament.

Hook's sword went sailing through the air.

And Bae's sword was up against his throat. "I win, Captain Hook. Now what's it going to be? Do you yield, or shall I slit your throat?"

Hook looked into the other's brown eyes and saw that Bae would kill him, though his eyes were not hard and cold like his own. Bae was not a murderer, but he wouldn't hesitate to put Hook in the ground if given cause. Hook had killed countless people in his checkered career, and he knew the look of a soldier when he saw it. Bae had it in spades.

"I yield!" he said through gritted teeth.

"On your knees and put your hands behind your head!" Bae ordered.

They tied up all pirates with strips from Belle's petticoat. Once Hook and Milah were subdued, Smee, never much of a fighter, surrendered without one. When she tied up Milah, Belle found a flask of rum on the pirate's sash and used it and another strip from her under skirt to clean the sword slash on Jeff's arm as best she could, and then bind it with more of the same.

"That'll have to do until I can get to my bag and stitch it," she said practically. Then she hugged both Jeff and Bae tightly. "I think I'd better sit down. My back aches."

"Here, Mom, let me help you to a chair," Bae said, giving her his arm.

Once Belle was settled in the chair, she said, "Would one of you check on Granny? She went to see how the kids were and she hasn't come back yet."

"I'll go," Bae said quickly. "Lock the doors after I'm gone."

When he left, Jeff did what Bae had said, then he too collapsed into a chair. "I sure hope Rum's fairing as well as us."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

High above the invading army, Rumplestiltskin warred with Regina in a magical duel. The realms had not been witness to such a thing since before the Ogre Wars, when two rival magicians had fought over a woman and created the Great Ravine in the mountain kingdom of Stonehelm as a result.

But unlike those two long ago combatants, Rumple had more control over his power, and limited himself to casting hexes at Regina, and not blasting holes in the surrounding countryside.

Regina also was limited in her choice of spells, as she didn't want to harm her invading army, and so the two unleashed the majority of their mayhem at each other.

When Rumple cast the fireball in her face, Regina managed with luck and a prayer to her dark goddess, Kali, to deflect it and send it fizzling off to hit the castle roof. Beneath her, Lilith screamed a battle cry, and lunged at the smirking sorcerer on the carpet.

But Rumple simply sent the carpet spinning about on a dust dervish, escaping Lilith's fangs and fiery breath. "Quite the temperamental steed you have there, Regina. Like her mistress."

"I'm going to blow you to hell, Rumple!" she spat. Then she used her wand, which cast spells of necromancy upon her command, to shoot forth bolts of withering force, which would shrivel up any living thing upon contact.

But Rumple used his command of air magic to shift into a wraith form, and the withering bolts passed harmlessly through his ghostly self and hit the earth far below, where they shriveled the ground.

Furious, Regina attacked him again, shooting black lightning at him.

Rumple calmly maintained his wraith form, and again her magic passed through him.

"Is that all you can do, hedge witch?" Regina taunted. "Sit there like a lump on that carpet?"

"Why no, dearie," Rumple replied. "But I thought I'd give you a false sense of victory before thrashing all that pride right out of you."

Then he flickered back to his corporeal form and put his hands, thumbs touching and fingers spread out in front of him. "Try this on for size, necromancer!"

Ten bolts of light shot out from his fingers, growing in size to ten fiery tailed comet-like projectiles.

They pursued Regina across the sky, and Lilith was forced to race up and down to avoid getting burnt as Regina frantically countered them, finally banishing the last one just before it exploded. She spun her nightmare about, wary now of the sorcerer, and cast her first defensive spell, making mirror images of herself on Lilith appear across the sky.

"Now try and catch me, Rumple!" she laughed, and so did all her images.

Then she began casting again, and her wand spewed forth a toxic green venom in a shower of poison droplets.

Rumple spun a shield out of thin air, and the droplets fell on to it, hissing as they ate through the magical protection.

He left it hanging in the air and took the carpet up out of range, squinting at the mirror images. They were identical, each to the other . . . save for one.

One had an odd white streak in her hair.

It was a streak of glue from Phillip's bullet, which Regina had forgotten about when she had imagined her other selves.

That discrepancy gave her away.

Upon seeing it, Rumple smiled. Then he concentrated, and Regina's mirror selves exploded like popped balloons. "Good try, dearie. But you'll have to do better than that." He waved a hand, and spirals of hot air streaked towards her, increasing in ferocity until a desert khamsin had spawned in the winter air.

Regina and Lilith found themselves caught in the deadly wind, and sent spinning about like a top.

Regina fought to stay upon the nightmare's back, gripping her bloodstone pendant hard in her fist. "Avert!" she snapped, using the pendant's magic to reverse the spinning wind and making it die down to a breeze.

Then she used the last spell stored in her wand and summoned a zombie drake from out of the ether. "Let's see you take this on, Rumple!" she crowed. "Get him!" she ordered the drake.

The zombie drake was about the size of two elephants, ponderous, with half-rotted wings and putrid glowing green eyes, teeth like swords and a stench that almost caused Rumple to lose his breakfast.

Breathing through his mouth, the sorcerer shot to the left, making the dead drake flap its torn wings and fly after him, breathing clouds of fetid gas.

Coughing, Rumple conjured a bubble of fresh air about his head, so he could breathe without getting sick from the beast's terrible breath. He zigzagged the carpet across the sky, and the drake pursued relentlessly.

The drake was slow, but also terribly strong, and at first all Rumple's offensive spells, like fire and lightning, did no true damage to it.

The drake howled, and came within a foot of snapping the sorcerer's head off before Rumple brought the carpet down into a dive, skimming the castle's left hand turret.

He reached out a hand and summoned to him a certain satchel he had stored there, a magical bag of spells and items he had left in case of an emergency.

The satchel flew into his hand and he mentally directed the carpet to pull up fast.

The drake was flying too fast to halt, and it crashed into the turret.

Stone tumbled and cracked and fell upon the heads of Regina's men who were standing beneath it.

"Damn! There goes my tower!" Rumple swore angrily as he brought the carpet around again. "Hey, you puss-licking ball of sheep shit! I'm right here!" he hovered in place for a moment, long enough to let the beast right itself and charge at him, rotted wings flapping, and bits and pieces of its flesh falling off.

The drake screamed in challenge, and Rumple gritted his teeth as the sound sent tremors through him, it was so discordant.

"You're dead, Rumple!" Regina laughed, watching from the side.

Rumple waited, letting the zombie thing get within range before reaching into his satchel and withdrawing . . . a handful of dirt.

The drake lunged . . .

. . . and Rumple tossed the handful of fresh grave dirt the satchel had provided him with right down the beast's maw.

The startled drake swallowed.

Then it screamed as the dirt, taken from consecrated ground, began burning and searing through its unnatural flesh.

Within seconds, Regina's monster was no more, and tattered black pieces of what remained fell through the air like ebony snow.

"No!" Regina howled. "Blast you! You ruin all my fun!"

Rumpe turned, his eyes glinting. "Want to play more, Regina? Here, say hello to these little friends!" He grabbed a black feather and tossed it into the air.

In seconds the feather had become a whirling vortex of black shapes which resolved themselves into a huge flock of ravens, with sword sharp beaks and deadly aim.

They mobbed Regina and Lilith, pecking at their head and arms and anywhere else they could reach.

Shrieking, Regina teleported away, reappearing some fifteen feet beyond the ravens, her face and arms bearing bloody scratches, as did her steed. "You'll pay for that, coward!"

"We'll see, little black widow," he sneered, blocking a blast of freezing wind from her.

Suddenly there came a hissing sound and a cobra appeared upon his carpet.

It struck at his foot, but its fangs only hit empty air.

Then a brown furred streak attacked it from the other end of the carpet.

Rumple-Mongoose sank needle-sharp fangs into the back of the cobra's head, then hung on as the snake thrashed and writhed, dying at last from the mongoose's fatal bite to the back of the head.

Rumple-Mongoose tossed the dead cobra off the carpet, shook its head, and blurred back into the sorcerer. "Guess you never read that mongoose tale Jasmine always tells, huh, Evil Queen?"

Regina gnashed her teeth. "Lucky break, Rumple! But your luck's just run out!"

She began conjuring again.

Rumple was not minded to let her finish her cast. He reached into his satchel again, withdrawing a pulsing green magical bean.

He threw it hard at her.

It exploded into a huge vine and wrapped around her and the nightmare, squeezing them in a deadly embrace.

Regina felt sparks dance before her eyes. She almost fainted. But then she managed to gasp out a countercharm, and the vine withered and crumbled to dust.

Shaken, she flew Lilith over the castle, hovering just above the roof. She smiled gleefully. Then she pointed her hands downward and purple magic arced onto the roof, which shuddered and collapsed.

"How do you like those apples, Rumple? I hope I've crushed your precious children . . . and your beloved wife!"

Then Regina began to laugh wildly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The first inkling Jack had that something wasn't quite right was when gray dust began to fall on their heads in the playroom. "What in hell?" he muttered, just as Sweetheart, Rowan, and Puss began howling, yowling, and neighing.

"What's wrong with them?" cried Nick, holding his ears.

"The roof's falling!" June screamed.

Finn woke up just in time to see great cracks spiderwebbing themselves along the ceiling. "Gods above! Quick, grab an animal!" he yelled, hugging Clary tight.

"What's happening?" Nora whimpered.

"Do it!" he commanded.

Jack grabbed Puss and Tom. Ariel hugged Sweetheart to her. Nick and Nora grabbed Rowan, and Gingy and Candy Cane hid in Finn's pocket.

There was huge roar as the roof collapsed.

**Page~*~*~*~*Break**

Granny froze as she heard the horrible sound of the castle roof caving in. She was across the hall in Myrnin's room with her granddaughter and some of the other Gold children when they all froze.

"What was that?" cried Phillip.

"It sounded like something blew up!" Peter cried.

"Stay here!" ordered Granny. "I'll go and see!"

She rushed out the door and into the hallway, only to see dust and stone cracked and broken all across the floor.

"Dear gods have mercy!"

Bae gasped as he ran from the opposite side of the hallway. "_No!_ Finn, Jack, Clary, Ariel, Tom, and the twins are in there!"

"Hells and gods!" Jeff cried, his face pale. He had followed Bae upon hearing the dreadful sound.

"NO!" Belle shrieked, running forward to claw at the shattered beams and broken stone clogging the playroom doorway. "Not my babies! My babies!" Her fingernails scraped futiley across the stone as she howled in rage and denial.

Granny blurred into her wolf form then, springing across the debris to reach Belle.

Then she changed back, grabbing the hysterical Healer and pulling her away from the collapsed door. "Belle! Belle, stop! Listen to me!"

Belle writhed in her grasp. "Let me go, dammit! My babies are in there! I have to get them out!"

"Belle!" Granny yelled, fighting with the pregnant woman.

"Mom! You can't . . . do anything now . . ." Bae cried, his voice breaking. "It's too late!"

Granny lifted a hand and smacked Belle across the face. "Stop and listen to me! There's no one left in there!"

"Don't say that!" Belle wailed, tears streaming down her face.

"It's the truth! They're not in there!" Granny cried, shaking her.

"What?" Belle sobbed.

"They're not there, Belle," Granny repeated. "Now get hold of yourself. My nose told me in wolf form that nothing's in there."

"What do you mean?" Bae sniffled.

"I mean just what I said. There are no bodies in there, I would have smelled them. They're not there," Granny insisted.

"Then where are they?" Jeff queried, his head spinning.

Suddenly Belle recalled the amulets they all wore, enchanted by her foresighted husband. "They're at Shoe House!" she cried. "The amulets! They brought them there, to safety!"

"Thank the gods!" Bae said, wiping his eyes.

Belle burst into tears.

"Come on, let's go across the hall," Granny said. "It's not safe to stand here."

"How in hell did the roof collapse?" asked Jefferson, taking Belle by the arm.

"Don't you know?" Granny queried. "Rumple and Regina are having one hell of a spell battle out there."

"How do you know?" asked Bae.

"You can see some of it from the window in Myrnin's room," Granny answered.

They all picked their way across the debris and raced into Myrnin's room to look out the window.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Regina made the roof cave in, Rumple's heart nearly stopped.

The sight of her atop her sick excuse for a horse, laughing diabolically, made him furious. At that moment, he wanted her dead more than he ever had anyone in his life.

He lifted his hand, and called his signature purple magic to bear, holding a glittering pulsing ball of energy in his hand.

He prepared to throw it at Regina, wiping her hated countenance from existence.

But something, some small sense of self-preservation, made him pause for just an instant.

_Use your magic for vengeance and you shall pay vengeance's price._

He had spoken those very words to Finn that long ago day upon the beach when he had faced Hook and Milah for the very first time.

He had spoken them then to get his son to think, and to choose to use his magic wisely, and not put his soul in jeopardy by casting magic that would taint him with darkness.

Now he faced the same choice Finn had.

The ball of magical energy pulsed in his hand. All he had to do was release it and Regina would be nothing more than dust on the wind.

His great enemy would be no more.

And he would cast his soul back into darkness for killing for revenge again.

Only this time there would be no cursed dagger to taint his soul. He would do that himself, as vengeance's price claimed his soul, and turned it black as night, and he became the Dark One once more.

The moment stretched into eternity, pregnant with possibilities.

_Choose wisely, Gold sorcerer, _the spirits of earth whispered.

Rumple closed his eyes. He could feel the fury raging through him, red as blood and clawing at him with the need to kill, to make Regina pay for her audacity and cruelty.

And yet . . . and yet . . . did he actually know for sure that she had succeeded?

He feared she had . . . he was terrified that his children lay crushed and broken beneath the tons of stone . . . but he didn't _know_ for certain any of them had been harmed by Regina's act.

Which made killing her now an act of vengeance and he had vowed long ago never to go down that path again. Once was enough for one lifetime. He would not become the Dark One again. He would not lose all that he had gained. He did not want his children to fear him or Belle to turn from him, from the monster vengeance and hatred made of him. Then he would be truly damned forever.

He opened his eyes, his choice made.

He eyed Regina, who was smirking cruelly at him. _I am the Gold sorcerer. And you shall not make me into the Dark One, Evil Queen. Not ever again. While there is hope, there is life. And my greatest power doesn't lie in killing._

He opened his hand and the killing magic dispersed.

His brown eyes hardened to amber flecks. "I'm done playing your little games, Regina. Now it ends." He flew the carpet onto the roof and stepped off it, facing the Evil Queen.

"I won, Rumple!" she laughed. "I killed your precious children! Or whoever was inside when that section of the roof collapsed! Somebody surely died today. I won!"

Rumple beckoned with a finger.

It was the simplest of spells, one that every magician learned like they learned how to summon light and levitate things.

So simple that Regina was caught unprepared when Rumple used it.

The come-hither spell yanked her off Lilith and dragged her over to where Rumplestiltskin stood, glaring at her.

"Hey! Let me go, dammit!"

"Not yet, dearie. Like I said, I'm through playing." Then, before she could remove the binding upon her, Rumple's hand flashed out, slapping her hard across the face.

When his hand made contact with her cheek, flesh to flesh, he used his magic to set something in motion, a spell that was in its own way, every bit as final as the killing magic he had conjured before.

"No one harms my family," he growled. "Especially not you!"

Regina gasped, her eyes wide. "What have you done, Rumple?"

"Given you what you asked for." He twitched his finger and the spell released her, dumping her on her backside before him.

Furious and humiliated, Regina snarled, "We'll see about that, you craven bastard!"

She pointed a finger at him.

And nothing happened.

"W-What?" she stammered, looking at her hand as if she'd never seen it before.

She stabbed her finger at him again, willing her magic to strike him.

A pinprick of blue energy emerged from her finger.

And that was all.

Regina lunged to her feet, her hands crooked into claws. "I'll kill you with my bare hands, Rumplestiltskin!"

Rumple stepped back. "Don't you ever learn, you stubborn witch?" he snapped his fingers, once, twice, thrice. "Maybe this will teach you."

A stick glowing with purple magic popped out of the air. It whacked the Evil Queen about the head and shoulders, making her shriek and stumble backwards.

She tried to magic the stick, but as before, her magic would not obey her.

She ran to hide behind Lilith, who shied away from her, and the stick that pursued her, smacking her on the back of the head.

"Oww! Oww! You miserable bastard!" she yelled.

Rumple let the stick wallop her a few more minutes before he banished it. Then he conjured a mirror. "Take a look, dearie."

Regina spat at him.

Then she went to look at her reflection.

She screamed in horror.

"No-o-o! _What have you done, Rumplestiltskin?"_

Her hands went to her face, which had moments before been the fairest in seven kingdoms. She howled again. "M-My _face_! It's—it's . . ."

"A true reflection outside as well as inside," the sorcerer said grimly. "So you can never lie to yourself again about who's really the fairest in all the realms. Congratulations, dearie! You've just been . . . _uglified_!"

Regina screamed as she felt her face changing and morphing, indeed her whole body was changing. "What _have_ you done?"

"Beat you with an ugly stick. And used my magic to limit yours to the bare minimum," he replied coldly. "This duel is ended."

Regina stared at her hands, now bent and crooked into misshapen claws with scaly green skin. And her face . . . her face was now something out of a beast's nightmares. "No! No! No!" she screeched, like a child in a temper. "Damn you to hell, Rumplestiltskin! Kill me and have done with it!"

She ran at him, trying to claw him.

He grabbed her hands and held her away from him.

"Why don't you kill me like I killed your precious children?" she howled. "Do it! Or don't you have the guts?"

"Oh, I could do it, dearie. And you know it. But killing you is too easy. You want it too badly, and I'm not going to give you what you want. Death is quick. And you deserve a more fitting punishment for all you've done. Because the best revenge, dearie, isn't watching your enemy die, it's getting even."

"Kill me, damn you!"

"No. You're going to live a long life, little black widow. With barely any magic and a face that even your mother couldn't love. And people pointing at you on the street and laughing at you because you're so damn _ugly_. I warned you once, Regina, that you crossed me at your own peril."

"You—you can't do this!"

"It's done. All magic comes with a price, dearie. And so does attacking my family and my home. Your choice, your funeral. Now suck it up and deal with it. And take your damn army and your scumbag friends and get the hell off my land and out of my castle!"

Below, the watching villagers began to cheer.

Regina cringed and backed away, though without much of her magic, she couldn't melt back into the shadows, nor reverse the spell he'd cast upon her.

Her forces, seeing that she was beaten, started to surrender.

Rumple climbed back onto the carpet and flew down to where Alice and her mercenaries waited, the mercenary captain's face streaked with blood and her body bearing various cuts, though none serious enough to put her out of commission.

He turned to where the remainder of Regina's and Gaston's army milled about and growled, "All of you, you have about five seconds to get your asses off my land before you end up like your queen . . . or worse!"

The men panicked then and began doing what he had ordered.

He turned to Alice and said, "I'm going inside to see what damage there is and if Belle and the children are okay, just—"

He never finished his sentence.

Because a black arrow slammed him in the shoulder, and he crumpled to the ground.

About twenty yards behind him, Zist lowered his bow, an evil smirk on his face. "Goodbye, Gold sorcerer."

"RUM!" Myrnin screamed.

"PAPA!" Ivy wailed.

Zist laughed, the sound hollow and cold.

Until he staggered backwards, Myrnin's arrow buried in his throat.

Stormrider dived towards the ground, and the remaining _dwarrow _drew back uncertainly, fearful of this powerful magic worker now that their leader was gone.

Suddenly, something banished all the sunstone pendants the night elves wore.

Screaming, their skin burning in the sunlight, they died, all those exposed to the sun's rays.

Those that didn't were picked off by silveron arrows flying from a phalanx of archers and warriors arriving upon more pegasi . . . led by the crown prince of the Folk of the Wood . . . and the king as well.

Myrnin and Ivy hardly noticed, however. The pegasus landed and Myrnin and Ivy sprang off and went running over to Rumplestiltskin, who was lying on the ground with Alice crouched over him.

"He's barely breathing!" she cried.

"Bloody green spider venom!" Myrnin growled. "Quick, we need to get him inside to Belle!"

He knelt and touched Rumple's good shoulder and teleported inside with him, whispering, "Don't die! Please! Or else the victory you bought will have been for nothing."


	61. How to Save a Life

**61**

**How to Save A Life**

Myrnin teleported Rumple right inside the library, which was where Belle was resting, since there wasn't enough room in Myrnin's room with all the kids in there. Jeff and Granny were with her also, they had seen part of the duel from the window, but weren't sure if it were finally over or not, which is why they had gone back to the library instead of down to the hospital, which was where Belle preferred to be.

As the half-elf appeared in the middle of the library with Rumple, Belle stared in horror. "Oh, gods! Rum! What happened, Myrnin?"

"He's been shot with a _dwarrow_ poisoned arrow," he informed her curtly. "Like I was. The poison's gotten into his bloodstream, though I brought him to you as quickly as I could."

Belle ran over to her stricken husband, who was still as death, his breath rasping in his throat in a horrible guttural sound. "The arrow . . . we need to take it out," she said, trying to push aside her terrible fear and become the professional Healer she knew she must in order to save her husband.

"I can do it," Myrnin said, and he set his hand upon the shaft and muttered in the language of magic.

The arrow was transmuted to blue smoke and the wound was now free of it.

"I need some antidote," Belle said, moving to sop up the blood from the wound, it was bleeding sluggishly. "Myrnin, take the key about his neck and get some from the apothecary chest in my bedroom."

Myrnin gently tugged the key off and transported himself into Belle and Rumple's bedroom.

He found that the room was a shambles, with things knocked all over and the apothecary chest lying on its side. He gently righted it and used the key.

But over half the delicate potions inside were shattered and broken.

He found the one labeled _Antidote to Most Poisons_ and discovered to his horror that there was a crack in the small flask and the potion had leaked out . . . all but a few drops.

Despairing, he felt tears well up in his eyes. "No!" he half-screamed. "I won't let you die! Damn it to all the hells!" He picked up the bottle and transported himself back to his stricken mentor.

"Good! You found it!" Belle said in relief.

"No. I found it broken and most of it gone," Myrnin said in a defeated voice. "This is all that's left." He handed her the last few precious drops.

Belle took it and gently poured the three drops down her comatose husband's throat. She stood staring at him, noting the wax yellow coloring of his skin, which seemed to clear up after he'd swallowed some of the potion. But it wasn't enough. "I need more."

"Maybe I can try and make some?" Myrnin suggested. "Does he have the recipe somewhere?"

"In his lab probably," she surmised. "He keeps all his potion books and notes in there. But Myrnin, brewing anything takes hours. I . . . don't think he has that long," Belle admitted, her throat clogged with tears.

"Perhaps I can help, my lady?" said a strange new voice.

Belle turned to see a tall elven man in shimmering mail wearing a helmet with dragon wings on it, armed with a sword and a bow. He looked about twenty-five, but Belle knew that appearances with the elves were deceiving. "Who are you, sir?"

In that instant Myrnin looked up . . . and almost toppled over. "F-Father?"

Ambrosius nodded to Myrnin. "My apologies for arriving so late. But Arion took awhile to convince me." He approached the Gold sorcerer. "Shot by a dark arrow, eh? Maybe this would help," he reached into a pouch at his waist and withdrew a small flask. "This is boiled leaves of the heal-all plant. My people use this on all their wounds, it heals everything from bee stings to poison wounds. It is formulated, however, for an elf, so it may not work on a human."

Belle took the flask from Ambrosius. "We can only try. It's all I have to work with." Jeff came and helped her sit Rumple up so she could pour the potion down his throat.

She did so by degrees, stroking his throat to make him swallow.

Then she waited, her hands clenched into white knuckled fists, for Rumple to respond.

But he remained the same as before, as still as a marble statue, barely breathing.

"Rum . . . Rum . . . please!" she begged, hoping to see his face flushed with color instead of this horrid pale effigy.

"Why isn't it working?" Myrnin cried agitated. "_Athrelas_ always works on us!"

Ambrosius looked grave. "I was afraid of this. Our physiologies are too different."

"It works on me, damn it!" Myrnin half-sobbed.

"Because you're a half-blood," the king said sadly. "There is enough of my blood in you to react to our medicines. But on him . . . I am sorry . . . Lady I have nothing else to give you. And the poison . . . it spreads swiftly. Without an antidote . . . he won't survive."

"Don't you say that!" Myrnin snarled. "Don't you _ever_ say that!"

"Myrnin . . . denying the inevitable won't make it better," Ambrosius said softly. His green eyes were strangely compassionate.

"Just shut up! Why are you here anyway?" he snapped.

"I came to help . . . Arion convinced me. I was wrong, youngling."

Had Myrnin not been so stricken with grief, he would have collapsed on the floor, to hear his stubborn proud father ever say those words. Instead he looked at Belle and said, "Isn't there anything else we can do?"

Belle's lips trembled. "I . . . I don't know . . ." She laid a hand on her husband's chest, letting her small Healing talent flow through him. "He's fighting it, but . . . the poison is so strong . . ." Her voice faltered then, knowing from a professional standpoint that there was nothing else she could do . . . except make Rumple as comfortable as possible. Her eyes glistened with tears as she contemplated a future without him . . . and a sudden sharp fury rose in her. "No!" she hissed. "I won't let you go, Rumplestiltskin! You promised me forever and I'm claiming it, damn you! And no bloody poisoned arrow is going to take that away from me. I'll never give up. I'll never stop fighting for you!"

"Belle . . ." Granny began, her face filled with sorrow. "Sometimes you must surrender to the inevitable . . ."

Belle glared at her. "Nothing in this life is inevitable! Where there is life, there is hope! _He_ taught me that."

"You have to do _something_!" Jefferson whispered, his voice gone hoarse with fear. "He can't just . . . die. Not after everything he's done. He _can't_."

"And he won't, Jeff," Belle said then, her words coming out firmly. "If we can't fight this poison by herbal or elven means, we'll fight it another way."

"What way?" asked Ambrosius, puzzled.

"A way older than all magics put together," Belle replied. "_This_ way." Then she bent over Rumple, took his beloved head in her hands, and kissed him hard.

_True love breaks all curses._

That was a truth she had always known. Always believed. But she had never tested it.

Until now.

The night before the battle for the Dark Castle began, she had promised Rumple that she would break any curse Regina ever cast by the power of her love. It had not been an idle boast. She had meant it with everything in her.

_I will never stop fighting for you._

Her magic roused then, brought out by the need within her soul, the need to save the man who was her beloved, the other half of her soul. And it was not the pale flickering thing it had been before, able only to assuage small hurts and dull pain. Driven by true love's power, it came in a rush, pouring through her like a flood tide, like a spring of purest water, it flowed from her lips into his body.

As it entered him, it began to fight the poison in his blood, altering its composition slightly, causing the antibodies present in his blood to awaken and neutralize the molecules of venom within him. His body was already altered by the magic he possessed, so it wasn't hard for her magic to take it one step further.

She deepened her kiss, feeling the power she had conjured tingling through her. _I love you, Rumplestiltskin. I love you. I love you. Now, forever, always, in all ways and throughout all time and space. By the power of my love, you are healed. By the power of my love, you are restored. By the power of my love, you live!_

She repeated her mantra over and over, willing him to come back to her. He was her heart, her soul, her true love, and she would not give him up to death's cold embrace. She would fight till the last breath for him. And she would win.

Golden tendrils of magic licked about her hands and lips, gold for hope and a love as pure and steadfast as the stars in the sky. Tears flowed from her eyes and splattered upon his face, but she welcomed their salty bite and continued to kiss him, recalling how she had told Milah that his touch brought her the ecstasy of the gods. Now she hoped her touch would bring him back from the brink of death.

She kissed him with all the passion and fire within her, remembering all those nights together, and all the nights she would have with him in the future. _It's not over between us! It'll never be over!_

Suddenly she felt him respond.

His breathing, previously shallow, suddenly deepened.

"I love you, Rumplestiltskin Gold," she gasped, drawing away. "Now wake up, dearie."

A rosy flush crept up his cheeks, banishing the waxen pallor of the grave. He breathed deeply, coughing slightly.

Then he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Belle, her beloved face inches from his own, her blue eyes sparkling with triumph and tears. He blinked and coughed again.

"Rum? Do you know me?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

"Of course," he said, his voice hardly a whisper, yet clear as a bell. "You're my heart."

"Yes. And I love you, so very much!" she smiled through her tears.

He lifted his hand, it felt oddly heavy, and touched her cheek. "I love you too, sweetheart." Then he kissed her back, and the magic flared between them again, gold and purple sparks dancing in the air as their lips met, reaffirming a promise as old as time, of two hearts made one, never again to be parted, in this life or the next.

Myrnin, Granny, Jeff, and Ambrosius stared in awe. It was life's greatest magic, the kiss of true love, but it worked only for those who believed, and those who loved with all that they were, unreserved and unafraid, with no secrets between them. A love as rare and precious as the first blue moon occurring in the night sky. Such a love could break any curse, destroy any poison, and save a life.

When Belle finally drew back from him, both their cheeks were wet from her tears. "You came back to me!"

"I didn't know I was missing," he said gently. "Where did I go?"

"Almost to death's door, buddy. That damn night elf shot you with a poisoned arrow and we didn't have enough antidote on hand to give you," Jeff broke in. "You almost . . ." he choked up and couldn't continue.

"But Belle brought you back, with true love's kiss," Myrnin continued. "And that's the greatest magic there is."

"My son is correct," Ambrosius agreed. "Though sometimes . . . it comes too late. As it was between me and my late wife."

Rumple blinked hard. "Am I still dreaming? Or is the king of the _il'Shennara_ standing there beside me?"

"No, Rum. He came here right after you'd been shot. And he and his phalanx of warriors helped route the rest of the night elves," Belle said.

"Kill them, you mean," corrected the king. "When I removed their sunstone pendants, they died. They can't withstand sunlight, especially directly."

"And I killed Zist, who shot you," Myrnin added grimly.

"The only people left here now are the ones who got trapped by the east wing, a guy in the kitchen cornered by bewitched cutlery, and Milah, Smee, and Hook, who're tied up over there," Jeff informed him. He waved his hand at the far end of the library, where they'd placed the pirates.

"My people are standing guard outside as well," the elven king said.

Just then, Ivy, Bae, Rafe, Elaina, Aurora, and Phillip burst into the library.

"Papa!" Phillip cried. "Are you okay?"

Rumple smiled at his youngest son. "I'll be fine, Phillip. In a few days."

His other children heaved sighs of relief and came to hug him one by one, and all of them were teary-eyed and concerned.

Then they were joined by Kristen and Peter and Ruby, and they were all happy to see him recovering as well.

Ambrosius raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of children."

"That's only some of them," Rumple said. "Where's everyone else?"

"At Shoe House and the Shepherds," answered his wife. "Safe and sound."

"And Regina?"

"Gone, in a covered carriage," Bae replied. "Along with the rest of her army, and whoever remained of Gaston's men. Alice and her company made sure of that."

"I really ought to get you into bed," Belle said then. "But I'm afraid our bedroom might be . . . a wreck, considering what just happened."

"Along with the rest of my castle," Rumple sighed.

"Would you permit me to assist you?" Ambrosius asked. "I am a magic worker of no small ability. I can mend what is broken."

Before he could answer, Myrnin asked sharply, "Why would you do that?"

Ambrosius looked at the son he had exiled and winced. "A suit of armor is not enough to pay the debt I owe the Gold sorcerer for saving your life. Whether you believe it or not, I am grateful for it. It is the least I can do."

"You owe me nothing," Rumple began.

"Now associating with humans isn't beneath you?" Myrnin growled.

"Myrnin, lad—" Rumple began, half-sitting up.

"No, I deserved that," Ambrosius said quietly. "For too long I have let my own bitterness and anger at your mother's death color my actions," he said to his son. "She'd strangle me if she knew the way I had behaved. But then, losing what is most precious to you in this world does strange things to one's soul." He shook his head. "But now is not the time to speak of such things."

"I'm not coming back with you," Myrnin stated, his hazel eyes sharp. "This is my home now. Nothing you say will change that."

"I didn't come here to make you come back," the king said quietly. "You belong here. You always have. I went about it terribly, but I realize now you were right. You must go where your heart leads you. I, of all people, ought to know that. But my pride and your stubbornness don't mix well at all. But we'll talk more later . . . if you wish it. Now, would you be so kind as to show me this bedroom that needs fixing?"

"This way," Myrnin said, and the two left the room.

"Maybe I should go with them?" Ivy mused. "So they don't kill each other?"

"I doubt they will," Belle said sagely. "They're talking to each other at last. And even listening too. And I doubt they've ever done that before."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Rumple sighed. "I'm weaker than seven hells."

"But you're alive and that's what counts," Belle reminded him.

"Thanks to you," he smiled at her, and in his smile was all the warmth in the world.

"I will always fight for you," she said, returning it.

"And I will always love you," he replied. Then he added, a twinkle in his eye. "I hope those two wait until after they've fixed my bedroom to kill each other, because this floor is damn hard."

They all chuckled at that. Despite his near brush with death, Rumple was well on the road to recovery.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Myrnin and Ambrosius returned after repairing the bedroom so Rumple and Belle could sleep in it, though Rumple would have to tell Myrnin what had been in the apothecary chest so he could brew more potions to replace what had been lost. Together, the two _il'Shennara _levitated the injured sorcerer into the bedroom and helped Belle make him comfortable.

Rumple yawned afterwards and said, eyeing the two, "If I go to sleep, will I wake up and find one of you dead?"

"No," Myrnin smirked. "I promise not to let him aggravate me that much."

"We've called a truce for now," the king said wryly. "Though someday soon I would like to talk to you, Myrnin, and explain a few things."

"Later. When I'm not feeling like a dragon stomped me," the young sorcerer said.

"Why don't you go and rest then?" suggested Ambrosius. "I shall ask Lady Belle if there are other places that need fixing, and see if Arion and the rest of the war band are well."

So both Rumple and Myrnin took some much needed rest, while the elf king and his people helped Alice with the mopping up, making sure there were no more enemy soldiers were lurking in the castle or the grounds.

While they were doing that, Belle, Granny, and Aurora went down to the sitting room and tended to the wounded there. They were mostly Card Captors, though a few villagers were there as well, with various injuries, including Dirk, who'd suffered a nasty slash along the ribs, and Rufus Miller, who'd taken a cut to the leg.

Belle quickly dressed and sewed up their wounds, pronouncing the mercenary free to leave, but Rufus she wanted to stay, since his wound was more serious.

"Tell my family where I am, Dirk," he called to the mercenary.

"Will do, Rufus," Dirk replied, then he went in search of his son.

Most of the patients in the hospital Belle and Granny were able to save, though there were quite a few who had died of their wounds before the two women could get down to them. Those they directed one of the Card Captors to help put in the annex, and move the sheep and chickens and goats back into the barn. They would have funerals tomorrow and the next day.

Belle sent Rafe and Graham down to Shoe House to bring back the other children and pets. They were accompanied by those villagers who were uninjured, returning to their homes now that the fighting was over.

Ambrosius mended the doors to the castle and fixed the roof over the playroom as well. The decimated tower would have to wait for another evening, since even his magic had limits.

He and Arion then relaxed in the kitchen, where Ivy was cooking, and the two chatted with her and Puck, who was almost as shocked as Myrnin to see his former liege lord at the Dark Castle.

"It took me awhile, but your leaving was what actually brought me to my senses," the king told him.

"I'm glad something did," the ranger said. "I was beginning to think you were bewitched."

"Only by grief and stupidity. You can come home, you know."

Puck smiled and shook his head. "No. I think I'm needed more here. But I will drop in for a visit now and then, now I know you won't have me shot on sight."

"I would never!" the king protested.

"For awhile there, I wasn't sure," Puck laughed as he ate some bread and cheese.

As she baked bread and made sandwiches for whoever was hungry, Ivy told Arion and Ambrosius about the battle she had helped Myrnin fight, using her magic of enhancement to boost his powers.

"That's an unusual gift, my lady," Arion said. "Few magic workers have that talent."

Ivy smiled as she kneaded dough. "Well, that's the first time I've used it like that. Normally I use it when I cook, to enhance my recipes and save myself time cleaning up and that sort of thing."

They put the prisoners, including Hook, Smee, and Milah, in one of the little used rooms of the cellar, since the castle didn't have a dungeon any longer. They also put chains on them. Ivy, accompanied by an elven warrior, carried food to them, saying shortly as she came with a tray of bread, cheese, and dried sausage as well as ale, "I'm not related to you, Milah, and am only feeding you because otherwise you'd starve, and we don't treat people like that around here, even if you do deserve it for attacking us."

"What's to become of us?" Smee asked, shaking.

"Well, I'd assume the magistrate will take you off fairly soon to the king's city for a trial, it's what we do in Attica. And by the king's justice, they'll review your crimes and determine a sentence."

"Will they hang us?"

"They could. Or you could be sentenced to years of hard labor in our mines or building roads and such. It all depends. But one way or another, you'll be made to suffer the consequences."

"And will you watch, then, if they string us up, girlie?" Hook leered.

"I might!" Ivy snapped at him, before leaving the room, accompanied by her escort, who glared at them.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Charming went back to his house to fetch Snow, Rennie, and Rogue home, and discovered the girls had a tale of their own to share with him.

"It was the strangest thing, Charming," Snow told him. "But soon after you said the fighting stopped, this carriage came by, a grand affair but looking rather the worse for wear. Its occupant was a wealthy lady who stopped to ask for a drink. Her face was all veiled, as if she was afraid to have anyone look upon her. And when I brought her the cup of water from the well, she . . . shrank from me. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, "Just the thought of accepting water from the likes of you makes me sick." I started to apologize and tell her she had naught to worry about, the water was perfectly safe to drink when I . . . recognized her voice. Charming, it was Regina! I'd stake my life on it."

"Did you run back and get Rennie's crook to bash her with?" queried Charming.

"No! Of course not! She was . . . obviously incognito and she . . . didn't seem like herself. She never would have stopped there for water otherwise. So I said, "Good evening, mistress and may you reach your journey's end safely." Then she said, "There's nothing good about it," and she handed me back the cup and ordered the driver to get moving. I think she recognized me, but I wasn't afraid of her any longer."

"And you don't have to be, Snow. Not after what Rumple did to her," Charming said.

"What did he do to her?" asked Rennie curiously.

Charming started laughing. "Well, for starters he . . . beat her with an ugly stick! So now she's uglier than hell! And he . . . took away all her powers . . . well, not all, but he's made it so that she barely has any magic. She can't enchant a toothpick anymore."

Both girls started laughing hysterically.

"Oh, I wish I'd been there to see that!" Rennie sighed afterwards.

"Me too!" Snow agreed. "Let's go home, Ren. Mom probably needs our help, with everything going on." She smiled at Charming mischievously. "Would you be so kind to escort us, sir?"

"It'd be my pleasure." Charming said, bowing. "And on the way back, I'll tell you all about the battles Bae and I fought, and that incredible horse of Jack's too! I would give my right arm for a horse like him . . ."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

That night they all slept like the dead, and the next morning, the magistrate came and carted off the prisoners, freeing the cellar space for storage again. They held several funerals for their dead comrades, and Myrnin was persuaded by Rumple to speak with his father, and when the king would have lifted the ban upon him, Myrnin said, "You might as well leave it. I'm not coming back, not to stay. My heart is here."

"Yes, I can see that. Your a_'liri_ reminds me a great deal of your mother," the king said, which was high praise indeed. "And Rumplestiltskin is a better man than I once thought. He'll be a good mentor and father to you. But do visit once in awhile. You're still one of us, even though you choose to live outside the Heart of the Wood."

"I'll . . . do that. Some time. After all, I have to be there when Arion gets married," Myrnin smirked.

"_Married?_ I didn't even know he was courting someone!" Ambrosius said, shocked.

"Father, you really need to start paying attention," Myrnin smirked. "Otherwise you'll miss out on the best parts of your son's life."

"Why, you . . . yes, I suppose so. Do you know who the lady is?"

"No. He didn't tell me. But I'm sure, if you ask him nicely, he'll share it with you," Myrnin chuckled, then he ducked the king's playful smack on the ear.

"Impudent brat! Rumplestiltskin will have his hands full with you," he half-growled.

"Ah, but I obey him better than you," his son replied. "When I obey anyone."

"As I said, may the gods of the wood help him."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It took Rumple a week to recover from the poisoning, as well as the price magic extracted from him for using battle spells. During that time, he received many visitors to the castle, as the villagers came and brought gifts of food and other things to replace what had been lost during the invasion.

Arachne Miller came herself with a basket of food and wine, which she delivered to Ivy, then asked if she might see Rumplestiltskin for a few moments. Belle led her upstairs to the solar, where Rumple was resting, and Arachne thanked him and Belle for their care of Rufus, who had been a guest at the castle for a few days while his leg mended enough to walk on.

"Dad was right about you, sir. You . . . you are a good man. And . . . I'm sorry for what I did to you before . . ." she blushed then and looked down at her feet.

"You won't ever do anything like that again, will you?" Rumple asked sternly.

"N-No, sir."

"Good. Then I forgive you, Miss Miller."

"Thank you, sir. Ummm . . . might I ask you something?" she was still looking at the ground.

"Yes, if you look at me," Rumple said, gently teasing.

She raised her head then and looked him in the eye. "I was wondering . . . could you . . . that is . . . would you mind showing me . . . how to spin wool better . . . your technique is . . . amazing . . . I've never seen better . . . but if you don't want to teach me, that's okay . . . I understand . . ."

"Come here on Saturday afternoons, miller's daughter. I'll speak with your father about it, and we'll make a deal for lessons."

Arache gaped at him. "Then . . . you'll teach me, sir? Even after I was so . . . horrible to you?"

"I'm willing to give you a second chance, Arachne. Though I can't teach you to spin straw into gold, if that's what you're thinking. So long as you promise to behave yourself, I'll teach you how to spin the finest thread in seven kingdoms. But the first tantrum you throw with me will be your last, for I'll shove you right out the door, never to return, and with a sore bottom too. I don't tolerate spoiled brats for students, as any of my children will tell you."

"Thank you, Master Gold. And I'll try and behave myself," Arachne said, curtsying.

"Do more than try, dearie. Do it," Rumple said. "I'll speak with your father soon."

"I'll tell Dad to expect your call," she squealed happily, then she waved goodbye and scampered out the door.

"Did I just agree to teach Arachne Miller?" Rumple asked Belle, rubbing his head. "I must be out of my mind."

Belle laughed. "Maybe you can finally get through to her, darling. What have you got to lose?"

"My temper," snorted the sorcerer. Then he pulled her down onto his knee and kissed her soundly. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Rum! I'm too heavy for you!" Belle cried, but she was smiling. Then she kissed him back. "I'm like a beached whale!"

"You are beautiful," he corrected. "Even like this, my Belle." Then he released her, sending her off his lap with a playful whack on the behind.

"Rum!" she pretended to glare at him. "I'm going to get you for that!"

He laughed. "I look forward to it, dearie."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Once the castle tower had been repaired, which happened about three days after the battle, Ambrosius took his phalanx of archers back to the Heart of the Wood, bidding Myrnin, Puck, and the Golds a cordial farewell, and extending an invitation to the family to come to Gliringlass whenever they wished, now that the threat of the _dwarrow_ was ended. His relationship with his younger son was patched and mended, and he would never be as close to the young magician as Rumplestiltskin was, but at least they didn't argue as fiercely as they once had, and while Myrnin refused to be a member of the elven court any longer, Ambrosius reversed his exile and still regarded him as his son.

After the wood elves departure, Finn came and spoke to Rumple at length about the battle for the castle, and what he had done to the soldier that had almost killed Jack. "I . . . still feel guilty over it, Papa. I shouldn't, I know he would have killed Jack quicker than blinking, and yet . . ."

Rumple, who had this conversation with Bae, Rafe, and Charming, all of whom had killed men in battle, said gently, "Finn, it's easy to look back upon things you did in the heat of battle and ask yourself could I have done something else? But what's done is done. It was survival, dearie, and you remember that he chose to come and slaughter and follow the Evil Queen and invade your home. No one forced him to raise a sword against a mere ten-year-old. And you were doing what you had to. So you remember that you saved your brother, lad, and that's the most important thing."

"I'll try, Papa. Does it ever . . . get any easier?"

"What? Using your magic to kill? It shouldn't. Taking lives isn't something you should do on a whim. It should be a last resort, after you've tried other methods first. I hate using my magic that way. I only do so if there's no other choice, like when I was defending my home from Regina's men. Do I regret it? Yes, a little, because I hate killing, but I did what I had to, and I'd do it all over again to save all of you. That's the only way I can justify myself." He patted Finn on the shoulder. "You'll see that in time, lad. You'll never forget, but you'll forgive yourself."

Inwardly he cursed Regina for bringing war to his doorstep, and making his innocent children fight against cutthroats to survive, leaving scars that would take a long time to heal. Finn wasn't the only one with regrets. Clary and Phillip had nightmares about the invasion, and Clary was afraid to go in the playroom in case the roof fell on her. Both little ones had scary dreams about Regina kidnapping them and for a week after the invasion, came into their parents' room to sleep with them, waking Rumple and Belle up crying in fear.

Once or twice, Belle forgot and locked their bedroom door, and then the two would go down the hall to Bae and Rafe's room and snuggle with them. Their older brothers would tell them silly stories and make them hot cocoa and eventually they'd end up with one or the other curled up beside them, sleeping soundly, knowing their big brothers would keep them safe and kick Regina's face in if she dared to come around here again.

"I guess this's as close as I'll come to being a father until Rennie and I marry and have some of our own," Bae remarked one night after Clary had crawled into bed to sleep with him. She was lying next to him, curled up in his arm.

"Yeah, me too. Elaina and I don't plan on having kids for awhile. We want to enjoy ourselves first," Rafe said, smirking down at Phillip, who was curled up next to him, his head on Rafe's shoulder. "And if you think we're not getting enough sleep now, just wait till the twins are born. I'm gonna need earplugs, like I did with Phil."

"Oh, brother!" Bae groaned. "I remember when Clary was a baby, I got woken up every night for three months straight. Maybe Ren and I'll elope and we'll move out. We'll stay with Jim and Bea until I can build us a house."

"What? And leave me all by myself? Fat chance, Baelfire!" Rafe mock-glared at him.

"You could elope too," Bae suggested, chuckling.

"Oh, right. And have Mom on my ass with a broom too? No thanks!"

"I doubt if I could convince Rennie to leave anyhow. Not like that. And she'd probably beat _my_ head in with her crook. So I guess we're stuck here," Bae said ruefully. "Maybe it won't be too bad this time around."

"Yeah, right. And Regina'll grow a heart," Rafe snorted. Then he turned over and fell asleep, eager to get in as much as possible.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Things settled down after that, with the kids going back to school, and Ruby and Arachne having spinning lessons with Rumple on Saturdays. The lessons went well, for Arachne was surprisingly obedient to Rumple's directives and didn't sneer unkindly at Ruby either.

Belle grew even rounder and swore she was going to ask Rumple to levitate her places now since she felt like a hot air balloon. She was about four weeks from her delivery date when she woke up one morning and saw she was spotting again . . . much worse than before.

"Dammit, Rum!" she swore.

"Huh? What's wrong? Did I kick you or something?" he asked blearily.

"No, it's . . . oh, hells! I'm spotting again," she muttered.

He woke fully then. "How bad, love?"

"Worse than before."

"Let me wake Granny," he said, pulling on his robe and slippers and grabbing his cane.

"Rum, I'm not dying . . ."

"You stay right there, Belle Gold!" he ordered. "Until I come back, don't move an inch."

She sighed, knowing she couldn't reason with him when he went into full overprotective male mode.

In a few minutes he returned with Granny and she helped Belle change into a clean nightgown and Rumple stripped the sheets off and put fresh ones on as well as a towel over them.

Granny raised an eyebrow. "A man who actually knows how to do something to a bed other than sleep in it."

"Who do you think managed this castle before my children were old enough to help me?" Rumple snorted. "You can't do everything with magic, you know. Will she be all right?"

"Yes, if she's on bed rest for the remainder of her time," Granny said. "Otherwise, she could deliver early."

Belle groaned. "It figures! I almost make it all the way through and then something happens."

Rumple helped her back into bed. "Cheer up, dearie! I'll put a calendar in here and we'll have a countdown. That'll keep your mind off how bored you are."

"Oh, like a timer on the oven?" she said wryly. "So you'll know when I'm about to pop?"

"Sort of," he grinned back at her, and propped her feet up on some pillows. Then he placed a hand on her swollen belly and said, "Now you two behave for your mama while papa goes and gets breakfast, okay? I'll bring you up a tray, Belle. Then we can read together. How about that story where the lady gets kidnapped by some highway man? I want to see if she brains him in the head with her shoe."

"Sounds good to me. Though I think she'd do better using a candlestick."

They shared a laugh over that remark, then Rumple went downstairs to have breakfast with the rest of the family and inform them of the new development. As Jeff said afterwards, there was never a dull moment around the Dark Castle.

**A?N: Hope you all liked Belle being the heroine this time around! And that kiss too! Hope it was romantic enough for all my Rumbelle fans! Next up . . . the long anticipated birth of the twins! Who wants to guess what they'll be?**


	62. Dearie, You're a Father Again

**62**

**Dearie, You're a Father Again**

Seemingly endless days of confinement dragged on for Belle, who had to spend most of her days in her room with her feet up on pillows, as they had started to swell around the ankles. Rumple did his best to entertain her, reading with her from her supply of books, and playing card games and checkers with her. He finished the sweater he had knitted for her and gave it to her in an attempt to alleviate her boredom.

"It's lovely, Rum. Now I can look good lounging in bed all day," she said, hugging the soft sweater to her. She had to admit it looked good with her blue bed gown.

Sometimes he would take her boar bristle hair brush and brush her dark tresses, making them shine with his loving attention. He would brush them with at least one hundred and fifty strokes, then plait some of it, trying to make a different style for her to wear everyday.

"Where did you learn to do hair?" she asked him one morning.

"Elaina. I'll have her do your hair next week, and you'll see how much better she is at it than I am," he laughed.

"I think it's a miracle that you're willing to be caught with a brush in your hand," she teased. "And you don't feel threatened by appearing feminine."

Her husband snorted. "I know quite well I'm a man, dearie. Holding a brush isn't going to make me grow breasts or be able to bear children."

"Thank the gods for that!" Belle giggled. "Because I like you just the way you are, darling."

"Good. Do you want a crown of braids this morning, or a single one?"

"Do the crown. I'm feeling rather . . . regal this morning. Or as regal as you can get when you're the size of a mansion and you waddle when you try to walk anywhere," she said.

"Like I said, I'm grateful it's not me having these children, dearie. Could you imagine me carrying all that extra weight and limping along with my cane?" he asked, his brown eyes glinting with amusement.

Belle burst out laughing. "Oh . . . oh . . . gods! Rum, please!" She giggled uncontrollably for a few minutes . . . every time she thought of a huge-bellied Rumple staggering along holding his cane in one hand and the other supporting his stomach. "Don't make me laugh like that again."

"Why? I like hearing it," he queried mischievously.

"Because I'm going to wet the damn bed, that's why!" she told him. She fell back on her pillows, snickering into her hands. "Now see what you've done!"

"What?"

"I can't . . . stop thinking about it!"

Then there came a knock at their bedroom door, and Phillip came in. "Papa, can Pinocchio come to play?" It was Saturday, so there was no school. He looked from his papa to his mom, who was still snickering. "What's so funny, Mom?"

"Your father!" she managed to say. "Pregnant!"

Phillip looked horrified. "Papa . . . I thought boys couldn't be that! That's awful!"

Belle laughed into her pillow at her son's mistaken assumption.

Tom came in, riding Candy Cane. "Hey, Mom, want to play a board game?"

"Tom! Papa's pregnant!" Phillip cried.

His small brother nearly fell off Candy Cane. "Phil, are you nuts? Guys can't get pregnant!" He started giggling.

"But . . . but Mom said . . ." Phillip began.

"Phillip, lad, your mom was kidding," Rumple hastened to correct him.

"Yeah, told you. We can't have kids 'cause we don't have the equipment," Tom said, smirking.

"Thank goodness!" Phillip sighed in relief. "'Cause if I had to stay in bed like Mom does, I'd go crazy! Papa, can Pinocchio come over?"

"Yes, if Geppetto says he may," his father replied. "You can go over to his house and ask him. Tell Bae, Rafe, or Finn to go with you though. Or Jack, no . . . he's over Merrin's with Ray."

"Okay! I'm going!" Phillip said, and he ran down the hall and slid down the banister. Then he went to look for one of his older brothers.

Rumple picked up Tom so he could walk on top of the bed, and Belle sat up and said, "Of course I'd like to play with you, Tom. What shall we play today?"

"Uh . . . how about Wizards and Dragons?" he said, naming a popular strategy game.

"I'll get the board," said Rumple.

So Belle spent some of her morning playing with her diminutive son, and after she had a light snack, did some logic puzzles with him as well.

It became a kind of ritual for all the children to spend part of their afternoon with their mother, keeping her from going crazy.

Elaina came in one day and she spent hours rearranging Belle's hair and playing with hats and hairpieces, both of them laughing at some of the silly combinations they came up with.

Rennie came in and Belle and she embroidered together. "I've made a t least six napkins for my china set now, Mom," she told her one afternoon.

"They're very elegant, Ren," Belle praised.

Rennie was embroidering a nightingale and a rose on each linen square in one corner, and her and Bae's initials in the opposite one. "I'm so glad my name starts with S, that makes it easy for me to entwine it with his B."

Belle nodded, working on a small bib for one of the twins. It was a pretty yellow color, dyed by Aurora from goldenrod flowers, and she was putting a small sheep and some daisies on it as well as the words _Papa's Little Lamb_.

"I love that color," said Rennie. "Rory did such a good job dying that length of cloth."

"She worked on it with Arachne," Belle said, tying off a stitch.

"Now there's a miracle right there," Rennie remarked. "Her and Arachne actually working together and not ripping each other's hair out."

"Well, your father was standing in the kitchen courtyard, watching, but he said the girls seemed to be getting on okay. Though there was one moment when Arachne started getting bossy and making Rory irritable, and he cleared his throat and shook his finger at her, and Arachne stopped and apologized for giving so many orders. The girl's been spoiled, but that doesn't mean she can't learn better. After all, Elaina did."

"Yes, that's true," Rennie said, changing out her blue thread for gold.

Later on in the evening, Bae stopped by to show Belle the wooden blocks he'd been carving for the babies. They were alphabet blocks, and on one side bore a colorful letter and on the other an animal starting with it. "I just have to coat them again with some clear sealer, and they'll be done," he said.

"Bae, they're amazing! I remember a set of these Phillip had back in Avonlea, but they burned when the trolls took over the city." She took out the block with a pink M on it, and on the opposite side was a monkey. "He looks real enough to jump off and start running around the room."

"Thanks. I used Papa's illustrated book of animals to copy from," Bae said.

"Your brother or sister or whatever I'm having is going to love these," Belle said. "Why don't we save them and you can give them as christening gift?"

"Okay, that sounds good," Bae said. "I'm glad you like them."

"By the time those babies get here, they're going to be spoiled beyond belief," his mother chuckled.

"Well, that's what big brothers are for," Bae smiled. "I'll be glad when they're born, so you can stop being a prisoner in your own castle."

"So will I. Though if I'm in prison, it's the nicest one ever built," Belle said, gesturing about her.

The bed had thick swansdown pillows on it, and a goosedown quilt and several crocheted lap blankets made by Rumple, Aurora, Elaina, and Rennie. Rumple had put down a fine carpet from Agrabah, so Belle's feet wouldn't freeze as she walked back and forth to the bathroom. Next to the small sofa was Rumple's work basket and Belle's sewing box, and a pretty paisley shawl was draped over the back of it. Her own and Rumple's slippers were lined up in front of the cherry armoire, and her side of the dresser boasted an array of different scents and a hand carved jewelry box as well as the familiar boar bristle hairbrush. The apothecary chest stood in the corner, next to the window seat, and the walls were adorned with cheerful tapestries of a garden, a sunset, and a meadow where a unicorn frolicked.

"Yeah, I know, but maybe you'll get lucky and they'll come early," he said.

"Just not too early," she said.

Alice and Jeff visited as well several times a day, keeping her abreast of the latest news in the village and playing hands of poker and rummy with her, as well as dice for copper pennies.

Granny was often with her as well, asking her advice on this or that tonic and herbal mixture, or knitting quietly while Belle read.

Then she got a surprise visit one weekend from Mary, who had tea and cakes with her and brought along her two former charges, Jane and Michael Banks, to play with Clary and Phillip, as they were about the same age, Jane was five and Michael seven.

While Mary told Belle about some funny stories that happened in her classroom, Phillip, Michael, and Pinocchio decided to play Evil Queen vs. the Gold sorcerer, and they got Jane and Clary to play Regina's forces. Until Phillip hit Clary in the eye by mistake with a bullet from his sling.

That ended that game, and Belle sent the boys outside to play with Polaris and had Clary lie down with her with a cool cloth over her eye and eat cakes with her, Jane, and Mary.

"What happened to you, snippet?" her father asked when he came back into the bedroom to see if the ladies needed anything else before he started spinning lessons with Ruby, Arachne, and Aurora. "Are you pretending to be sick like Mama?"

"No. Phil hit me in the eye when we were playing, Papa," Clary said, sitting up. "I ain't playing Regina anymore."

"What?"

"We was playing a game, see, and Phil said Jane and I had to be the Evil Queen 'cause we were girls, so we did and then he started shooting us and he hit me in the eye."

"He didn't mean it, Rum," Belle said quickly. "He said he was sorry and they've gone out to play."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "I can't believe they were playing something like that. I guess I'm lucky they didn't try beating her with a stick too." He picked up his small daughter and sat down with her in his lap on the sofa. "How's your eye, Clary?"

"It doesn't hurt so bad now, Papa," she said, then snuggled into his chest. In a few moments she was asleep, worn out from the day's drama. Rumple continued to hold her while he visited with Mary and had some tea.

When they were finished with the tea set, he had the cups and cutlery walk themselves onto the tray and float downstairs, making Jane giggle. Then he excused himself and went down as well, to hold his class.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

At times, Belle's confinement was trying beyond belief. No matter how nicely appointed the bedroom was or how many books Rumple brought her, sometimes she was so bored she felt like screaming. She began sleeping a lot during the day, which meant she was awake at night, often into the wee hours of the morning.

She read the herbal Archie had given her from cover to cover, and did the clever word puzzles Rumple and Tom invented for her to while away the hours. She made new perfume and sachets from her dried roses, and even tried her hand at painting, though she said a sick chicken could do it better.

One afternoon, Ivy and Myrnin came to visit her, asking her opinion on the menu for the week and also telling her of a new idea they had.

"Myrnin and I decided that when we're married, we're going to open a school together," Ivy said excitedly.

"A school?" Belle repeated.

"Yes. We thought we could combine our two magical Gifts and run an academy for culinary arts and magic too," Myrnin said.

"We could call it the Gold Academy of Cooking and Magical Arts," Ivy told her. "What do you think, Mom?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Belle said. "And you have plenty of time to plan it all out, considering you're both only fourteen."

"Yes, and we could also include a class on relations with the _il'Shennara_, and I could teach students the customs and language of the wood elves," Myrnin said. "Now how about we have the stuffed turkey with roasted potatoes and chives and buttered peas and ice cream on Tuesday? And the beef vegetable stew and bread with pecan pie on Wednesday?"

"That sounds divine. You're making me hungry again, and I just ate," Belle said. "And I can't keep eating all the time, or else your papa's going to have to use magic to get me out of this bed, since I'll be too big to walk!"

"Mama, you're not fat," Ivy objected. "You just feel that way because you're stuck in this bed."

"Ivy's right," Myrnin said. "But you only have two weeks left."

"They can't come fast enough," Belle sighed. Then she said, "How about fried and baked trout on Friday, with rice pilaf and broccoli with cheese and pound cake with raspberry sauce?"

"Yes, that's always good. And Finn, Ariel, and Jack can go ice fishing, or whatever," Ivy laughed.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Clary and Phillip amused her with their endless tales of things they had done, and Clary played tea party with her and Sweetie, and also had Belle show her how to hold a baby and feed it a bottle and change a diaper, so she could be ready when the twins arrived.

"Girls!" Phillip rolled his eyes. "Why do you want to learn that? You're too little to take care of a baby."

"Nuh uh, Phillip!" Clary declared. "I'm gonna be a big sister, and I need to know how to do all that so's I can help Mama."

"Not me! I'll read to 'em from my books, but I ain't changing no diapers!" Phillip stated. "That's what parents are for."

"When are they gonna get born, Mama?" asked Clary.

"In about twelve days, I hope," Belle said. "Oh! One of them's moving. Would you like to feel him or her?"

Clary scrambled atop the bed. "Me first!" she said, and placed her small hand on Belle's tummy. A few seconds later, she felt a kick. "Wow, she just touched my hand. Hey, baby! I'm Clary, your big sister."

"How do you know it's a her?" Phillip said. "It could be a brother in there."

"Nope, it's a girl," Clary said firmly.

"Yeah, sure. Like you can tell." Phillip snorted. "Can I feel him now?"

"Yes. Put your hand here," Belle directed, and let her son feel one of the twins moving.

Phillip smiled. "He sure can punch hard. Does it hurt when he does that?"

"Only sometimes. But mostly no," his mother said.

Phillip kept his hand on her belly, then said, "Mom, how do they come out of you?"

"Umm . . . well . . . " Belle pondered how she could explain childbirth to her seven-year-old.

Then Clary chimed in with, "The stork brings 'em, Phil! Don't you know about him?"

"The stork?"

"Uh huh. Rory told me. She said that when the twins are supposed to be born, a big white stork gets them outta Mom's tummy and puts 'em on the doorstep in a basket for us. Like it did when I was born, and Papa found me," Clary told him.

"Mom, is that true?" Phillip sounded skeptical.

"Well, it's one way to explain it," his mother said, hiding a smile.

One afternoon it snowed, and Kristen and Ruby put on a dance routine for her, Rumple, and Granny, while Finn played his flute and Ariel sang in the background.

Later, Jasmine read them some poetry she had written, and Ivy brought them some maple syrup popcorn, a new recipe she and Myrnin had invented. It was delicious, and Belle said she was lucky to have such inventive children.

Jeff and Alice also showed the children how to make maple sugar candy with a clean bowl of snow, which they poured the hot syrup on and let the freezing snow harden it into candy they could suck on.

At night, when the wind howled like a forlorn dog outside the window, Belle had Rumple rub her back and gently massage her feet, rubbing them with sweet scented rose lotion. As the sweet scent of roses surrounded her, she said, "You make me feel like a queen, Rum. Even more than I ever did when I was princess of Avonlea. No one massaged my feet back then, certainly not Gaston."

His hands paused in their ministrations. "He was ten kinds of an idiot, not to take care of his wife when she was having his children. He's much more useful as a rosebush." He waved a hand at a small bud vase, where a rose colored red and gold rested inside it. "See, he smells sweet and he can't talk back and annoy you."

Belle giggled. "But I do wonder what Regina told Jeanette? Did she lie and say he died?"

"Who knows? Knowing Regina, I wouldn't put it past her," Rumple said, resuming his task, gently rubbing the lotion over her sensitive arch. "How's that feel, dearie?"

"Incredible." She wriggled her foot, laughing as he tickled her. "Did you do this for Milah too?"

"I would have, but she refused to let me near her when she was almost due with Ivy. She wanted me to watch Bae and spin, and half the time she was cursing me for getting her in a family way again. Once she tripped and I caught her, and she totally lost it, started calling me every name in the book and said it was my fault she was like this, and when I pointed out that she had been a willing partner, she cracked me one across the cheek."

"She hit you? Over that?"

"You know Milah's always been temperamental. And being pregnant just made her even more so . . . and less inclined to hide her distaste for me," Rumple sighed. "I think she was planning her escape even then. And I can't say I was sorry to see her go. Except to regret that Bae and Ivy would grow up without a mother."

"They were better off without her," Belle snapped.

"Yes. They'd be the first to say so," her husband replied. "Have I told you the latest news from the king's city yet?"

"No. Have they tried them yet?"

"Yes, they started the hearings last Friday. And today they were sentenced to a lifetime's hard labor in the salt mines, on a chain gang."

"Good. At least now people will be safe from all their looting and pillaging," Belle said. "Mmm . . . keep rubbing that spot there, beloved. You're actually making me sleepy."

As a lazy lassitude spread through her, Belle relaxed back on her pillows, surrendering to Rumple's deft touch, that soothed her into sleep, which was often impossible for her these days, as she couldn't seem to get comfortable, she was so awkward and clumsy.

Her last thought as she sank into sleep was how lucky she was to have married a man like Rumplestiltskin.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Early in the morning on February 14th, Belle was restlessly tossing and turning, trying without success to get comfortable, and not wake her sleeping husband at the same time. That was when she felt it . . . a slight twinge that rippled across her abdomen. At first she ignored it, she had been having phantom labor pains all week.

But after ten minutes, they grew stronger, and she knew she was starting to go into labor. She debated on whether or not to wake up Rum, then decided to wait, since this was only the beginning. She managed to sit up, wrapping an arm about her huge stomach.

Another contraction rippled through her and she whispered, "Are you ready to get born today, babies? It's Valentine's Day, a day for true lovers to recall why they fell in love. How fitting that you choose today, of all days, to come into the world."

Half an hour passed, and the contractions weren't getting any stronger. Belle was glad she hadn't wakened Rumple, figuring it was a false alarm again. As she tried to relax against her pillows, taking deep cleansing breaths, a strong contraction suddenly gripped her.

"Oww!" she yelped, caught by surprise.

"Belle? What's wrong?" Rumple asked, waking up.

"The babies, Rum. I think they're coming soon," she said.

"You're having contractions?" he asked, sitting bolt upright. "How long have you had them? How far apart are they?"

Belle told him.

"I'm getting Granny," he said. He practically leaped out of the bed.

"Rum . . . don't panic."

"I'm not panicking. Who said I was? I just want Granny to examine you." But he was so flustered and nervous that he started for the door and forgot one very important thing.

"Rum! Put your pants on! You'll give Granny heart failure if you show up like that!"

"Oh. Umm . . . yes, of course. I was going to," he said, flushing.

"When? After you were in the hallway?"

"Yes! I mean no! Oh, hells! I don't even know what I mean," he cried, and summoned his pants to him and pulled them on while sitting on the bench at the end of the bed. He was so agitated that he almost pulled them on backwards, and thanked the gods Belle couldn't see it. Then he threw on a tunic as well and seized his cane and limped out the door.

_She's having the babies. She's having the babies. Right. Now._ He thought as he limped as quickly as he could down the hall to Granny's room. The moment they'd all been waiting for was finally here. And he was suddenly terrified. _What if something happened? Something bad? I'd never forgive myself if something happened to my precious Belle. My gods, the babies are coming!_

He reached Granny's room, why did it seem to take forever when it was right there two doors down he'd never know. He gently knocked, waited until he heard her voice, and opened the door.

"What is it, Rumple?"

"Uh . . . Belle . . . the babies . . . she's . . . contracting . . . Oh my gods! The babies . . .are coming! Now!" he managed to get out, his words tripping over themselves.

Granny looked at him. "Rumple . . . breathe!" she ordered. "You'll do Belle no good if you pass out."

"But Granny . . . she's . . . the babies . . ." he gasped, his head whirling. Finally he took a deep breath. Then another. And another. His head stopped whirling. Then he said, all in a rush, "Granny, Belle's in labor! The twins are coming!"

"Yes, I heard you the first time. How far apart are the contractions? Has her water broken?"

"Umm . . . no. Not yet. I'm not sure and . . . about seven minutes . . . I think."

"Okay, we've got time. Just relax, boy. She's not going to deliver in five minutes. Now go out in the hall and wait for me. I'll be there in a minute. And remember . . . breathe, Rumple!"

"I am!" he practically snapped.

"No, you're hyperventilating," she corrected. "Now get!"

He stepped back outside, leaning against the wall, gripping his cane for dear life. How long did it take for the old woman to just throw on clothes? He could have magicked them on her. She just had to ask. Then he'd be done with all this waiting around and back inside by Belle. Who was having the babies. Right . . . blasted . . . now. He counted off seconds in his head. Then he began breathing, forcing himself to count breaths, like he did for meditation.

When he got to ten, and Granny still hadn't appeared, he was ready to climb the walls. What part of Belle was having the babies now didn't she understand? They had to hurry. It seemed like an eternity went by before Granny emerged in her midwife's dress and apron with her hair done up under her cap. "Finally!"

She looked him up and down. "It's been five minutes, Rumple!"

"Uh . . . it has? It felt like five hours," he babbled.

She rolled her eyes. "Mother of Us All! Give me strength. Husbands!" She started down the hall, and Rumple stuck to her like glue.

When they got back to the bedroom, he found Belle sitting up, her hands on her belly, looking calm. "Belle! Are you all right? Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"In seven minutes?" she queried. "Just another pang. It doesn't even hurt."

"Okay, well, you tell me when it does and I'll use my powers to numb it," he told her. "I can do that. So you're not in pain."

Granny came in and smiled at Belle. "Anybody'd think it was his first time being a father, the way he's acting."

"He's a little nervous, that's all," Belle said wryly.

"I am not!" he protested. "But I wasn't there when Bae got born and Milah kicked me out when she was having Ivy, so I wasn't there for that either. What can I do?"

Granny smirked. "Go downstairs and make me some coffee. And boil a pot of water."

"Coffee? You want coffee now? But . . . she's in labor!"

"Rumple, her labor's barely started. She could be like this for _hours_," Granny pointed out. "Now . . . go make me some coffee."

He glanced over at Belle, as if seeking permission. "Go, Rum. I'll be fine. Let Granny examine me. Now go!" She pointed towards the door, as if he were a misbehaving Polaris.

"Okay! I'll go, but I'm coming right back!" Then he rushed out the door.

"Oh, boy!" he heard Granny say as he left. "It's going to be a _long_ morning."

He froze. Then he stuck his head back in the door. "A long morning? Why? Is there something the matter?"

"Help me, gods! Yes, Rumple! I need my coffee!" she snapped.

"I'm getting it," he growled and turned away. "How in hell can she want coffee at a time like this?" he muttered, and limped towards the stairs. Maybe he should teleport down? No, it was dark. He could accidentally teleport into something, which would be a very bad thing. He conjured a ball of light and sent it ahead of him to light his way down the stairs.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

He floated the coffee pot, two mugs, the pitcher of milk, and the sugar bowl upstairs along with the pot of boiling water. When he got upstairs he found very little had changed. "Is she having the babies?" he asked Granny bluntly.

"Yes, Rumple. But she's not going to just pop them out," the midwife said, fixing her coffee. "It's not like magic, sorcerer. Now sit down and have a cup of this. It'll bring your wits back."

He glared at her and fixed himself a cup of coffee.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Two hours later, Rumple had drunk four cups of coffee and Granny five. Belle's labor was progressing nicely. She was waddling up and down the bedroom, he had her arm about his waist. "Are you in a lot of pain, dearie?"

"Not so much yet. Calm down, Rum. I'll let you know when I need that spell, believe me. Right now I'm about six centimeters dilated. We'll need ten before I'm ready to start pushing. So we have another hour of this."

"Why's it taking so long? I don't remember it taking this long with Milah."

"Were you drunk then?" she queried.

"Uh . . . I might have been," he admitted. "Andrew the dyer kept giving me pints of ale."

"Trust me, that's why you thought it happened all at once," she reassured him. "This is normal."

"I'm not drinking anything," he hastened to reassure her. "Otherwise I can't cast spells around you."

"I know, love. Now let's walk around the bed again."

So they did. Several times. The cock crowed. Then Belle's water broke.

"Now things will start happening," Granny said. Then she began to time the contractions.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

"It's . . . almost time . . . Rum!" Belle panted, as she felt another contraction squeeze her in two.

She was crouched at the end of the bed, holding onto the bedpost while contractions came one after another. She refused to lie down, saying it would help the delivery if she just crouched there.

Rumple wasn't about to argue with her. She was in pain now, he could see it, but she kept refusing the numbing spell. Not yet, she said. You have to time it. He wondered what in hell she was waiting for—next Winter Solstice?

"You're doing fine, Belle," Granny said calmly.

Belle grimaced, the contractions were almost continuous now. "Rum!"

He wrapped his arms about her back. "Now, sweetheart?"

"Now!" she gasped.

He cast the spell, numbing her back and belly.

"Oh, gods! Thank you!" she said, relaxing slightly.

"Can you still feel the contractions?" Granny queried.

"Yes . . . but they don't hurt now. They're just like pressure," Belle told her.

"Let me do one last check, see where they are," Granny said.

While she did that, Rumple squeezed Belle's hand in his. "Do you feel all right now?"

"Yes, Rum! And soon you'll be a father again, dearie!" she panted, breathing through another contraction.

"They're in position, Belle. It's almost time to push," Granny told her.

"Good. I'm ready."

"I'm not," muttered Rumple. "What can I do to help?"

"You're doing it, darling. Just hold me like this," his wife said softly.

So he did, wishing he knew a spell that would just yank the babies out of her. Maybe he could invent one?

"Okay, Belle! Push!"

Belle did. With Rumple's spell on her, she felt only pressure, not the searing pain she had before. She thanked Hera, patroness of childbirth, for her husband's magic. This was a walk in the park compared to her other deliveries.

On Granny's instructions, she pushed again.

Twenty minutes later, Granny was holding a tiny, perfectly formed baby girl in her hands. The baby was crying lustily, letting everyone know she didn't appreciate this business of being born.

"You have a daughter, Belle!" the midwife announced.

Belle smiled in triumph. "And soon we'll see if she has a brother or a sister!"

Rumple released her back and said, "May I see her?"

"Just give me a few seconds to wash her off, Papa."Granny was smiling as she gently sponged the baby off and put her in a clean diaper and wrapped her in the soft blanket Rumple had woven. "There now, sunshine! Go meet your papa."

Rumple took his baby girl in his arms. It had been four years since he had held an infant, but he didn't even need to think about how, he automatically snuggled her to him. "Hello, my lovely girl!" As he gazed into her dark blue eyes and saw her fuzz of dark hair, he smiled, consumed with love. It was just like when he had held Clary, his heart swelling with joy and nearly bursting out of his chest. He carried the little scrap over to Belle and said, "Meet your daughter, Mama."

Belle kissed the wrinkled little face and whispered, "Hello, my sweet princess! You're just as beautiful as I imagined you'd be. She has your hair, Rum! It sticks up just like that when you first wake up."

"I know! But she's got your nose. Don't cry, lovely girl. Papa's here." He rocked the baby gently, grinning down at the little miracle that fit in the crook of his arm.

And the baby suddenly stopped crying and snuggled, her little face nuzzling him.

"Belle, time to push again!" Granny said.

Ten minutes later, she held their son in her hands. He was a bit smaller than his sister, but he also cried strongly. And had the same tufts of dark hair and smoky blue eyes.

Granny handed him to Belle once he was wrapped in his blanket, and she kissed the little face, her eyes wet with tears. "My beautiful boy! You're perfect. Just like your papa."

She had held three infants in her arms before, yet holding her newborn son then was like holding Serenity for the first time, wondrous and magical, the best miracle ever created. "Look at your son, Rum! Isn't he gorgeous?"

Rumple wore a grin that stretched from ear to ear. "He's wonderful, dearie! So small and yet so perfect." He was overjoyed, so happy he could barely speak, just gazing down at the tiny baby in Belle's arms. "He's much smaller than Bae was when I saw him."

"But he'll grow, Rum. Quicker than a blink," his wife said, rocking the baby gently.

Granny took the twin girl for a moment, so Rumple could hold his baby boy, then she handed him both twins while she washed up their mother and helped her back into bed.

Rumple held both twins, and said, "You're both incredibly tiny! You almost fit in my hands. And just wait until you meet all your brothers and sisters." His daughter reached out and grabbed her brother's hand in her tiny fist. "Belle, they're holding hands!"

"They probably did that in the womb," Granny said, smiling. "Congratulations! That was one of the easiest deliveries of twins I've ever had. And you didn't even pass out, Rumple!"

"Pass out? I barely had time to blink and they were here," he objected.

"Oh, _now_ he says that!" Granny grumbled, then she chuckled.

"It took a bit longer than that, dearie," Belle chuckled. "Let me hold our baby girl."

Rumple put the elder twin into her arms, and rocked his newborn son, while Belle cooed over their daughter.

"So, what are we going to call these little ones?" asked Granny.

"This is Richard Jefferson Gold," Rumple said, kissing the top of his son's head. "Or Dickon for short."

"And his sister is Arabella Alice Gold." Belle told her.

"A graceful beauty and a powerful leader. Those are excellent names. Won't Jeff and Alice be surprised?" she asked them.

Just then, Arabella began to wail.

"Sounds like someone's hungry," Belle said, and gently put the baby to her breast.

The crying ceased as Arabella nursed.

Until Dickon started howling next and Rumple gave him to Belle to feed also. Once both twins were feeding, he said, "After about a week, we can start teaching them to take a bottle too, so I can give you a break every so often."

He climbed up on the bed and stretched out beside his wife and the twins. He couldn't stop looking at them, he was in awe of how tiny they were, how precious, how utterly adorable. Arabella's little hand flexed up and down as she drank, and Dickon's hair stuck up all over his head, as if he'd been surprised. _Two perfect babies. My twins,_ he thought proudly. He smiled at Belle, whose eyelids were beginning to droop. "You did it, sweetheart!"

She smiled over at him. "You mean, _we_ did it," she corrected. "I doubt I'd have made it through the delivery without your magic." She caressed first one twin and then the other, loving how soft their skin was. She yawned. "My sweet little ones. I think I'm ready for a nap, Rum."

"I know I am," Granny chuckled. "These old bones don't do well on anything less than eight hours of sleep. Good morning, good night, and Happy Valentine's Day to you all."

"That's right!" Rumple exclaimed. "It _is_ Valentine's Day! I'd forgotten!"

"I didn't," Belle laughed, gently rubbing Dickon's back. "I think they decided today was a good day to be born because of it. After all, they are true love babies."

"They are indeed. I think she looks like you."

Belle shifted slightly to peer down at the infants. "And I think he does, and _she_ looks like her papa. But we'll see what the kids say when they see them."

"I can't wait to see Clary and Phil's expressions," Rumple grinned. "I'll have to go and find a basket and put a blanket in it and leave it on the floor."

"For the stork?" Belle chuckled. "If only it were really that easy!"

"Do you hurt there, dearie?"

"No. Your spell's still on me, though I'm sure once it wears off I'll be a little sore. But the twins were small, so they didn't tear me or anything like that. I'll be fine, Rum. I'm just . . . sleepy."

"Well, you sleep and I'll watch them," he told her.

"Okay. You behave now for your papa," she said to the twins, then she shut her eyes and fell asleep.

Rumple watched the twins until they too fell asleep, still marveling how the two tiny beings had come from him and Belle, the truest and best expression of their love. Then he put his arm across Belle and the babies, hugging them all to him, and fell asleep as well, imagining the looks on Jeff and Alice's faces when he introduced them to their namesakes.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it! Wasn't Rumple hilarious when Belle was in labor? And who do you think will see the twins first? Thanks to everyone who submitted names for them, I had a hard time choosing, so I just picked them out of a hat.**


	63. Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**63**

**Something Borrowed, Something Blue**

Belle, Rumple, and the twins slept for over five hours after the birth. The twins had been born around 5:30 in the morning, and it was almost eleven before Rumple woke up again. He quickly checked on his snoozing wife and new babies, gently covering Belle with her nightgown and shifting the babies so they were more firmly held in her arms. Then he padded into the bathroom to wash his face and shave before any of his curious children saw him. He also remembered to summon a large laundry basket and line it with two blankets and a pillow before going to wash up.

It was a good thing he had, because soon afterwards the bedroom door creaked open and he heard Phillip say to Clary, "You're gonna get us in trouble. Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice said we supposed to stay out of here and let Mom and Papa sleep."

"So? They're not the boss of us!" Clary replied.

"Uh huh, if Mom and Papa aren't there. I don't want to be put in time out or made to run laps around the castle," Phillip reminded her.

Clary huffed. "Uncle Jeff's never done that, he's only _said_ he would. And he's never put us in time out either."

"Well, I don't want today to be the day he does it," Phillip fretted, even though he knew Clary was right. As far as he knew, their fun-loving uncle had never punished any of them for anything . . . and neither had Alice.

"C'mon, Phil! I just wanna see if the stork came yet," persuaded Clary.

Phillip sighed. "Okay, but it's _your_ fault if we get in trouble."

They pushed open the door and entered the bedroom.

Phillip's eyes darted to the bed, and saw his mother asleep, but that was nothing new. Seemed like she slept a lot these days. He noticed that Rumple's side of the bed was empty and realized that his father must be up . . . and in the bathroom from the sound of water running.

Clary crept nearer to the bed . . . and spotted the basket. "Phil! He came! The stork came!" she cried excitedly.

"Where? I don't see him." Phillip glanced around.

"The stork's not here, silly! Rory says only grown-ups can see him. But where's the babies?"

"Umm . . ." Phillip peered over the top of the bed at Belle. "Clary! C'mere! Look at Mom! She's holding them! Look! Look!"

"I can't _see_, Phil!" Clary cried irritably. "It's too high!"

"Here, big sister Clary," Rumple said from behind her. "Let me help you." He picked her up so she could see the twins and Belle. "Just don't yell, it's quiet time. You don't want to scare the babies."

"Okay, Papa," Clary whispered, putting a finger to her lips. Then she stared down at her new siblings.

"Papa, what are they—brothers or sisters?" asked Phillip.

"We have one of each, Phil. The one on the left is your little sister, Arabella Alice, and the one on the right's your little brother, Richard Jefferson."

"Like Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice?" Phillip said.

"Yes. Your mom and I decided to name them after Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice. Aren't they beautiful, dearie?"

Phillip studied the babies. They were tiny and they had red faces and their heads were sort of . . . cone-shaped. Phillip wasn't sure if they were beautiful or funny looking, but he didn't know if he should say that in front of his father, who clearly thought they were beautiful. He didn't want to hurt the babies or Papa's feelings.

Just then Belle opened her eyes and yawned. "Rum, what time is it?"

"Eleven o'clock, I think," he glanced at the mantle clock to confirm it. "How are you feeling, love?"

"Fine. Just tired." She smiled down at the twins, then saw Phillip peering at them. "Phil, have you met your new baby brother and sister? Say hello to Dickon and Bella."

"Hi!" Phillip said shyly. "They sure are tiny, Mom!"

"My doll's bigger than they are," Clary finally spoke. "And prettier looking."

Phillip gasped. "Clary! You shouldn't say that!"

His younger sister looked at him. "Why? Don't _you_ think they're kind of ugly? They've got heads like tops."

Phillip sighed. "Okay, sure, but you'll hurt their feelings. And Mom and Papa's too, saying they got ugly kids."

"Okay! But it's true. Mama, why're they like that?"

"Umm . . . well . . . because when the . . . stork gets them out of me, he has to tug really hard because . . . umm . . ." she looked at Rumple for help, since she was barely awake yet.

" . . . because he's only got a beak and can't get a really good grip on them unless he pulls hard," Rumple continued. "So all babies are born with that funny-shaped head. But it'll go away after a day or so, and so will their red skin. They were just born five hours ago, so they're still tired. Would you like to sit here and hold one?"

Clary slowly nodded. "Is it like holding my dolls?"

"A little bit," Rumple said, setting her down on the bed.

"Do you remember how I showed you the way to hold your doll?" Belle asked.

"Yes. Like this," Clary demonstrated, cupping her arms and putting one inside the other.

"Good. Now wait a second," Rumple picked up Bella, who was sleeping deeply, and gently set her in Clary's arms. He helped her position the small head on her elbow, and said, "Good! Now put your other hand here, under her bottom."

Clary looked down at her sleeping baby sister. "Wow! She's heavier than my doll, Papa!" She cradled the baby close and said, "Hi, Bella! I'm Clary, your big sister. One of 'em. But I'm the best one. And I'm gonna teach you how to play tea party, and pet Sweetie, and say please an' thank you, and fix up my dolls when they're hurt. But you gots to pay attention, okay, and do what I say, 'cause I'm the boss of you, like Bae is of me. Okay?"

Bella yawned.

"I don't think she heard you," Phillip said.

"Yes, she did, only she's too tired to open her eyes. Right, Papa?"

"Um . . . yes. But right now she's too little to play with you, dearie. You'll have to wait a few months." Rumple said, trying not to laugh. "Phil, would you like to hold your brother?"

"Umm . . . maybe later. I don't want him to pee on me," Phillip said quickly.

"Excuse me?" Belle asked, her lip quivering. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Rafe said the first time Rennie held me, I peed on her. So I don't want it to happen to me," Phillip said, putting his hands behind his back.

"Okay, son. Maybe later," Belle said, trying not to laugh. "Rumple, would you take him? I need to answer a call of nature."

Rumple gently lifted his son from her arms. "Okay. Go ahead, dearie."

Belle made her way to the bathroom, and Phillip said, "Hey, Mom! What happened to your belly?"

"It's gone, Phil. Because the babies are born," she called back before disappearing through the bathroom door.

Phillip looked up as Dickon began to stir, fussing a little. "What's the matter with him?"

"Nothing. He's just a little cranky," Rumple said, gently rocking him. "Like you when I have to wake you up for school and you don't go to sleep, but play soldiers with Nick under the covers half the night."

Phillip's eyes widened. "You—you _know_ about that?"

"Of course I do. I'm your father," Rumple said, hiding a smirk. He patted his small son's bottom when he stirred, nuzzling Rumple's chest.

"Umm . . . I'm gonna tell everyone else that they're here, okay? They're all downstairs." Phillip jumped off the bed and raced out the door. "Hey, everybody! The stork came! _The stork came_!" he bellowed as he ran down the stairs. "He brought us a new baby brother! _And _a sister too! Yippee!"

"Good heavens!" Belle said as she came out of the bathroom. "He's like the town crier. Well, I guess we'd better go downstairs and let the rest of the family meet their new siblings." She gently took Arabella from Clary and walked down the hall, with Clary skipping along behind her.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Everyone was anxious to meet the twins, so Rumple and Belle had them all sit down in the parlor from eldest to youngest to hold a baby. Jeff, Puck, and Alice were there also, though they were standing behind one of the couches.

Rumple approached his friend with Dickon in his arms. "Jeff, I think we ought to start with you, pal. Say hello to my son, Richard Jefferson."

Jeff's mouth fell open. "You . . . you named him after me?"

"I did. I wanted to do it with Bae, but Milah had already named him by the time I got home. So I did it the second time around. Here, hold your namesake."

Jeff backed away. "No! I . . . I can't, Rum! I don't know how. I could drop him."

"Jeff! What are you afraid of holding a little bitty baby for?" Alice hooted. "The best swordsman in my company save for me, and you can't hold a baby?"

"Alice! He's so tiny! I could crush him," Jefferson protested. "How come you're not holding the baby girl, huh?"

"Alice, here's Arabella Alice, _your_ namesake," Belle said, then she handed Arabella to Alice without bothering to ask her.

Alice held baby Bella to her, cooing at her. "Oh! Belle, she's gorgeous! And she has my name! Hello, precious! When you're older, Auntie Alice is going to teach you how to swing a sword . . . so you can beat off all the stupid boys who try and kiss you without asking. Oh, you're sweet as sugar, punkin'!"

"Jeff, come here!" Rumple ordered. "Move over there, Pete, let him sit down."

Jefferson looked horrified. "No, oh, no! Buddy, please. You don't want to do this."

"Jeff, for gods' sake! You act like you're going to the gallows, not going to hold your godson," Rumple scolded while the children giggled. "Now sit your ass down before I come-hither it."

Jeff glared at him. "I swear, Rum, you do that and . . . and I won't talk to you till my wedding."

"It's okay, Uncle Jeff," Phillip said suddenly. "I was afraid to hold him too."

"I'm _not_ afraid," Jeff refuted. "I'm just . . . a little uneasy." He moved and sat down on the sofa. Now he had to hold the baby, he had no choice. "Okay, now what?"

"Hold out your hands," Rumple instructed. He gently placed Dickon in his friend's arms, adjusting Jeff's hands so he was holding the baby next to his chest. "There you go! See, you're holding him. Nothing to it, right?"

Jefferson stared down at the bundle in his arms. "He's tiny, Rum! He doesn't weigh more than a loaf of bread. My whole hand covers half of him."

"Now it does. But give him a month or so and you'll need both hands," Rumple chuckled.

Jeff looked down at the baby, who peered up at him through smoky blue eyes. "Hey, you know, you're kind of cute. Like me. But then, of course you'd be, right, Little Jeff?"

"His name's Dickon," Clary pointed out. "Papa said so."

"Sure he is, Clary-belle. But to me, he's Little Jeff. And I'm going to teach him everything I know."

Rumple rolled his eyes. "I was afraid of that."

He let Jeff hold the baby for a few more minutes, then took him back and turned to see who was next to greet his son. Puck stood there, his green eyes twinkling. "May I?"

Rumple put Dickon in his arms, and Puck calmly snuggled him close. "Hello, little one. You're small now, but your father's right, soon enough you'll be causing mayhem."

"Puck, where did you learn how to hold a baby?" Myrnin asked.

The ranger chuckled. "Well, I held _you_ when you were a few hours old, though you wouldn't remember it. You have a fine son here, Rum. Felicitations!"

"Thank you, Puck." Rumple then gave Dickon to Bae to hold.

Bae took the baby carefully, and said, "Hey, little brother. You're no bigger than a minute. But I bet you'll be following me around asking "Why, Bae" before I know it, huh?" he tickled the baby under the chin and Dickon cooed at him.

Across from him, Rennie held baby Bella, and looked perfectly enraptured by her. "Mom! Look at her little fingers and toes! She's just perfect!" She sighed in longing. Then she looked over at her fiancé and said, "Bae, we need to push up the date for our wedding. I want to get married soon, so we can have one of our own."

Bae laughed. "Ren, take it easy! I want one too, but not just yet, okay?"

"I was afraid you'd say that," she groaned. "All right. In the meantime, I'll practice with little Bella here and Dickon."

Soon they had all taken a turn holding their new siblings and welcoming them to the family, even Phillip, who supposed he was safe after Dickon had gone through all twenty-one of his sisters and brothers, including Myrnin, without an accident.

Alice and Jeff volunteered to hold the twins while Belle and Rumple ate breakfast, and as Jeff cuddled his godson, Alice smirked, and said to Belle, "Now that he has a kid named after him, he's going to get a swelled head, just watch. His Little Jeff will be able to do no wrong. So there goes any attempt at discipline when _he's_ around."

"Then we'll do it when he's not looking," Belle said, her blue eyes glowing. She was starving and ate everything on her plate and then took seconds. She almost couldn't believe the twins were actually here. But then she felt her nearly flat tummy and looked at her son and daughter in the arms of her best friends and realized all over again that they were here to stay, twin little Golds, who would never worry about what their legal name was or what family they belonged to.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Of course, there was a period of adjustment now that the twins had arrived. Belle and Rumple had determined they needed to get the babies on a routine as soon as possible, so they weren't driven crazy. Sometimes Bella would be cranky and refuse to nap, and require one of them to walk with her up and down till she grew tired. Other times Dickon was restless and stayed up while Arabella dropped right off. Though of the two, Rumple's little girl was the more dominant, and she was also the first born of the pair. Dickon, he had noticed, tended to watch Bella before he tried something.

For the first week, Belle was feeding the twins every three hours or so, with Rumple giving them warmed goat's milk from a bottle during those times when Belle was napping. The third morning of the twins lives, half the children came down to breakfast sleepy-eyed and cross, some of them wearing earplugs.

"Those babies kept me up half the night," complained Peter. "Can't you magic them quiet, Papa?"

"Maybe I could mesmerize them for you?" Ariel offered.

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "No, Ari, that won't be necessary. You'll simply have to grow used to it, until we get the babies eating and sleeping at regular times. If anyone should complain,, it's your mother. She's woken up three times a night with them, and so am I."

During the day, because everyone else was in school, Alice, Jeff, Bae, and Myrnin helped with the twins, feeding and playing with them, and changing them when necessary. Soon they could all distinguish between each twin's cry, and what it meant—if they were hungry, wet, sleepy, or just plain irritable. Clary, of course, was only allowed to hold one if an adult were present, and she fed them only when Belle and Rumple were there to watch her. Other times she would play nearby and "watch" them as they sat in the small rocking seats Bae had made for them, or napped in the double cradle in Belle's room.

After the rest of the children came home, Rennie, Snow, Aurora, Elaina, and sometimes Ariel, Finn, Kristen, and Ivy helped feed, bathe, and change them. Snow and Rennie often could be found with a twin in one arm and doing something with the other one, like setting the table or folding laundry. Ariel was always singing lullabies and other songs to them, and Finn played soothing melodies on his flute to get them to sleep when he watched them.

For the most part, the twins were contented babies, surrounded by loving siblings and parents. They tended to do things in tandem, like be hungry at the same time, or if one cried, the other would join in. In the cradle together, they were always holding hands, and sometimes one would suck the other's hand.

There was a stream of visitors to the castle to congratulate Belle and Rumple on the birth of the twins, and bring them small gifts. One of the first to come were Charming and Mistress Bea, who brought adorable embroidered smocks for the babies, each with their initial on it, and a pretty lace shawl for Belle and a sheepskin vest for Rum. Snow nearly laughed herself sick the first time Charming held one of the twins.

"Why, he's—no wait, this is Bella—she's smaller than a newborn lamb!" he said, holding the baby as if it were about to jump away from him. "It's almost like when Dusty's puppies were born."

"Don't be afraid to cuddle her, Charming. She won't bite," Snow giggled, and gently showed him how to hold her baby sister close.

"Just watch out for her head, son," Bea told him, also grinning. "There's a soft spot babes have there, you don't want to press too hard."

"Mom, her whole head fits in my hand," Charming cried. "I think I'd better sit down before . . . something happens," he said, finding a chair and collapsing into it with the baby.

Bella burbled and made small sucking noises at him, and Charming smiled and said, "Aww, I think she likes me! Snow, look, she's . . . giggling or something at me."

"I'm not surprised. You charm all the girls, Jim," Bae laughed. "Even the little ones." He was bouncing Dickon on his shoulder, and his baby brother was sucking a fist and staring about with wide eyes, restlessly moving his legs.

Suddenly, Dickon let out a burp, and Bae rubbed the tiny back and said, "Attaboy, kid! I knew there was something bothering him, he was squirming so much. Usually he's quiet. _She's_ normally little miss demanding."

"Her? She's sweet as pie, aren't you, darling?" Charming crooned, and was rewarded with Bella gurgling and half-smiling up at him.

"See? It's him," Bae said, smirking. "All the ladies love him. Better watch out, Snow, or else you'll have to beat off admirers with a stick until you put a ring on his finger."

"You're a fine one to talk, Baelfire! I don't see wedding bells pealing yet," Charming snorted.

"Next year, Jim. First we need to get Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice to walk down the aisle," Bae refuted.

For amid all the hustle and bustle with the twins, Alice, Belle, and the girls were trying to prepare for her wedding in May. Belle had bought her friend a large hope chest, similar to Rennie's, and was helping her fill it, because even though they would be staying right there in the castle, Belle wanted Alice to feel like she had a home. They had renovated the east wing somewhat, and used some rooms to give the couple a suite of their own, complete with a parlor, bathroom, and small morning room where they could have privacy when they desired it. Rumple had constructed a dumbwaiter, so Ivy could send up trays for breakfast for them if they wished to have time alone in the morning, though most often the two were with the rest of the family.

Alice appreciated all the extra help the girls gave her, especially when it came to making her wedding gown and sewing sheets, pillowcases, napkins, and other things. "My stitching could make a cat laugh, it's that bad," she admitted cheerily. "Used to give my ma fits. When I was thirteen, she'd make me sit by the window for hours and embroider these stupid samplers, and half the time they'd come out all crooked and she'd make me pick out the stitches and do it over. But I never got any better, and finally I'd shove it under some yarn and run out the door to practice with the boys in the tiltyard, or fish in the stream with Belle."

"Sometimes, I'd finish one for her, so Mistress Sharpe would let her out of her room," Belle recalled. "Then we could go riding together or down to the city and shop. Of course, Alice was always shopping for secondhand tunics and breeches, so we had to pretend we had a brother they were for," she told Snow, Rennie, and Aurora one day.

"Yeah, and our "brother" went through an awful lot of clothes!" Alice chuckled. "Since my ma would have skinned me, I couldn't keep them in our house, so Belle hid them in a servant's closet of castoffs. Only problem was, sometimes people took them, and then I'd have to buy a new set, or trade for it down in Avonlea town."

"Wow, Mom, sounds like you were a real rebel," Rennie said.

"I was not! Don't listen to Alice, she lies like a rug," Belle told her.

"Oh, do I? _I_ wasn't the one who beat up Lord Reginer D'Este with a shoe!" Alice responded.

"Mom! You beat up a guy with a _shoe_?" Snow gasped.

"Yes, I did. I had to. I was protecting Alice from being ravished," Belle defended. "She was fifteen and Reginer was a rake and he was trying to . . . to have his way with her in this back corridor of my palace. I saw them go down there and decided to keep an eye out, because I didn't trust him."

"She was right. That louse tried to rip my dress off as soon as we were alone, and back then I didn't know how to dismember a man who got too touchy feely with me, I didn't even carry a knife on me then," Alice said.

"So I came up behind him when I saw he wasn't going to let her go, he had her pinned against the wall, and I beat him in the head with my high heel shoe," Belle related. "He was eighteen, old enough to know how to treat a girl, but he thought because he was a noble and Alice a commoner, he could get away with his disgusting behavior."

"But Belle taught him otherwise," Alice said, a glint of satisfaction in her cornflower blue eyes. "That big bastard never yelled so loud in his life. And when he saw a girl half his size had just bested him, he threatened to call the law on her! Until he realized just who it was who'd done the deed, and he slunk away like whipped puppy."

"He'd have been in real trouble if word of that had ever gotten out, because my father wouldn't have tolerated it and he'd have been banished from court and publically blacklisted," Belle said.

"Go, Mom!" Snow, Rennie, and Aurora cheered.

"And that's one reason I believe in teaching young girls your age how to defend themselves from scoundrels like Lord Reginer," Alice said. "It's also why I always carry a knife on me somewhere. Because you never know when a man is going to try and take advantage of you."

While Alice told the girls stories of her wild girlhood with Belle, or bounced her namesake on her knee, Jeff had sparring practice with the boys, or helped Rumple watch Dickon, whom he insisted on calling Little Jeff.

Jeff, who normally avoided babies like the plague, seemed utterly besotted by his namesake. Rumple even managed to get him to change a diaper one night, when he was awake at midnight with both twins, who were cranky and refused to sleep.

Rumple was walking up and down the nursery floor with his daughter, who was howling, and his son was in a bassinet beside the changing table, also crying because his twin was upset, when Jeff came in wearing his old breeches and a worn shirt, his usual sleep attire, and said, "Hey, what's going on in here? Why's Little Jeff screaming?"

"It's called sympathy pains, Jeff," answered Rumple, patting and rubbing his daughter's back. "Bella's cranky and her tummy's bothering her for some reason, so he's crying because she is. Unless he's wet. Would you mind seeing?"

"Uh . . . me? Rum, I don't know anything about babies," Jeff began to protest.

Rumple rolled his eyes. "Jeff, an idiot can see if he's wet or not. Do you want to stand here and listen to him scream?" He bounced Bella on his shoulder and cooed to her. "Yes, dearie, I know you're upset, the whole village probably knows, huh? Lovely girl, if you'd just drink some chamomile tea for Papa, that nasty tummy ache would go away."

Jeff bent down and picked up Dickon. "Hey, little buddy. What's wrong with you?" He gently felt the baby's bottom through the one piece smock he had on. "Umm . . . Rum? He's like soaked here."

"All right, Uncle Jeff. Put him on the little changing table there and I'll walk you through changing him," the sorcerer said, wincing as Bella's howls rang in his ears.

"Me? Aww, Rum, I can't . . . I don't know how . . ."

"So you'll learn. You don't want your nephew to think his uncle's clueless, now do you?" Rumple teased.

"I could hold Bella while you do it," Jefferson offered.

"Bella only wants Papa now. Come on, Jeff, is a big bad merc like you afraid of a wet diaper? You want Dickon to get a rash because you were too squeamish to help me?"

"No! No, of course not! Okay, what do I do?"

So Rumple told him, step by step, how to change the baby, using a banishing spell to vanish the soiled diaper to the laundry room, where it would sit in a vat of bleach and soap to soak before washing.

"Now wipe him with the cloth there, it's got a special solution on it to clean him, and then put on the rash away salve in that tin there," Rumple directed.

Jeff did so, saying, "Are you sure he won't fall off?"

"Jeff, he's not even a month old, he can't turn over yet," the sorcerer chuckled. "It's when they're four months you have to worry about that."

Jefferson winced at the loud cries coming from Bella, and as he lightly applied some salve to Dickon, who had stopped crying, said, "Can't you magic her well, Rum?"

"Would I be walking her up and down like this if I could?" he demanded testily. "Magic's not a cure all, Jeff, how many times have you heard me say it? A baby's digestive system is delicate, the last thing she needs is me trying to fix with magic what can fix itself naturally. I could kill her." He sat down in the rocker and attempted to give the screaming infant a bottle of chamomile tea again. "Here, dearie. This'll make you feel better. Come on, just try some for Papa. There's my good girl!" he gently rocked his daughter as she started sucking on the bottle.

"Now what do I do?" Jeff asked, wiping his hand on a clean cloth.

He listened while Rumple told him how to fold a diaper and then pin it with magical pins that wouldn't stick the baby. "Oh, this isn't hard at all," Jeff said, busily pinning. "There you go, Little Jeff! All nice and dry and everything. Boy, am I good or what?"

"Your uncle has a bit of a complex there, dearie," Rumple said to Bella.

"Oh, be quiet, Rum!" Jeff said, then went to pick up the baby from the table. "You're just miffed 'cause I did it on the first try."

Rumple looked up and started laughing. "Oh, you sure did, all right!"

"Huh? What's so funny?" Jeff demanded. "Why're you laughing?"

Then he looked at Dickon, who was bare from the waist down, to the diaper, which had fallen right off him and onto the floor. "Aww, hells!"

"Next time pin it tighter," his friend said, his eyes dancing with mirth.

Jeff scowled and picked up the diaper. "You know, Little Jeff, your papa's gonna get a punch in the nose from me one day," he grumbled, repining the diaper.

"Not unless your uncle wants to be a garden statue," Rumple retorted. He gently took the bottle away from Bella and put her on his shoulder. "Time to burp, sweetling." As he patted the baby, he said to Jeff, who had finally mastered the diaper, "There's another bottle of warmed milk in the pocket of his bag over there. Why don't you give it to him? He's probably hungry after crying so much. Just remember, only give him a little, about a quarter of what's there, and then burp him, otherwise he'll puke all over you."

Jeff found the bottle and sat down in the opposite rocker and fed Dickon, saying to him, "That's good stuff, right, Little Jeff? Drink it all now so you can grow up big and strong like me and kill all the monsters and rescue some fair lady in a tower."

"Yeah, like you ever did all that," snorted Rum.

"I've killed my fair share of monsters, Rum. And I sort of rescued Melisande that time," Jeff objected.

"Uh huh. The tavern keeper's daughter was hardly trapped in a tower," Rumple pointed out.

"Her mother was like an ogre, so it sort of counts," his friend argued. "I had to sneak up the rose trellis at night and help her out the window. She couldn't wait to get out of there."

"She also couldn't wait to marry the baker's apprentice, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, well, you can't win 'em all, right, Little Jeff? And Alice is worth ten Melisandes anyhow." He put the baby on his shoulder and started rubbing the tiny back. "Rum, how hard should I do this?"

"Just a firm tap, Jeff. Don't be afraid, you won't hurt him, he's not as delicate as you think. Look," he demonstrated on Bella, who suddenly let out a huge belch. "Good one, dearie! See, the chamomile helps, doesn't it, sweetheart?" he kissed his baby girl's cheek and then went to feed her the rest of the bottle.

As if that were a signal, Dickon let out an even larger burp. "Whoa! I think we should have you in a contest, little guy! You could win Uncle Jeff some money. Isn't Little Jeff just amazing, Rum? He's like the best baby I ever knew."

"Uh huh. He's also the only baby you ever knew, except for Clary, and you weren't around when she was really small," Rumple teased. "You know, Jeff, now that I named my son after you, turnabout's fair play."

"W-What?"

"I mean, when _you_ have a son, it's only fair you name him after me."

"You want me to name my son Rumplestiltskin?" Jeff gasped.

"Why not? Then I can tell my brilliant namesake, come here Little Rumple and see what your Uncle Rum has for you today!" the sorcerer laughed.

"Aww, come on! The kid will be teased like hell in school if I do that!"

"I lived through it. Besides, he'll have all of mine to beat up those bullies that start something with him," Rumple pointed out.

"You're not serious, buddy."

"Only a little," the sorcerer said. Then he resumed rocking Bella until she fell asleep cuddled against his shoulder.

The nursery was painted a sunny yellow color, and had rainbows, clouds, and flying unicorns all over it, as well as the cow who jumped over the moon, a cat playing a fiddle, and three sheep jumping over a fence with a shepherdess looking about for them. Written on the walls were fragments of nursery rhymes, like _Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep, hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, and the cow that jumped over the moon_. Tom, Snow, and Rennie had painted it, showing off their artistic talents. It had soft carpets of pure ivory merino wool and white pine furniture, provided by Alice and Jeff. Lights were soft recessed magical ones, and a toy box stood against the wall with baby toys Clary had outgrown as well as a small bookshelf with children's stories and nursery rhymes. Right then there was no crib or cradle in there, since the cradle was in Belle and Rum's bedroom, and the crib in the right hand tower turret with the holiday decorations, as the twins were too small for it yet.

Two rocking horses, made with real horsehair, stood in the corner of the room, they were gifts from Merrin and his family. The horses had real leather saddles and bridles and were cleverly carved, one was painted gold, the other white.

There was also a life-sized stuffed bear, fuzzy and huggable, given by Rufus Miller and his family. It had also held a gift basket of candy and cakes for the rest of the Golds, but that had long since been shared and eaten.

Jeff and Alice's mobile hung over the changing table for now, later they would move it over the crib when they put it in there for the twins to look at.

The rocking chairs were stationed one on either side of the bookshelf, they were new, given by Mike, Dirk, and some of the Purple Dragons. Rum still had his old one in his bedroom, and used it when Belle or he got up with the twins at night to feed them.

Jeff rocked his namesake, humming quietly to the baby, who eventually put his little head on Jeff's shoulder and fell asleep. The lieutenant of the Card Captors looked at his best friend, who was rocking his daughter, and said, "I guess we didn't do too bad, did we, buddy? Gran would be proud to see us now, you happily married with children and me about to. Guess we'll have to start having kids as soon as we tie the knot."

"Is that what Alice wants?" Rumple asked softly.

"She says she does. Only she made me promise that I'll train any of our girls who want to learn the sword as well as our sons. I told her that was fine. And she said she wants a few of her own, but that she wasn't going to try and compete with you and Belle."

"Wise decision, Jeff," Rumple said. On his shoulder, Arabella whimpered, and Rumple gently rubbed her back and sang softly, "_Sleep, my pretty one, sleep, in your dreams count sheep, one, two, three, four, then sleep some more, in my arms you're safe and sound, now sleep the clock around."_

"Hey, that's a real nice tune there, Rum. Where'd you learn it?"

"Ariel and Finn made it up," Rumple answered. "It's so simple even I can sing it." The baby on his shoulder yawned, and then nestled against his neck, and he felt her soft breath on his skin and smelled her sweet baby scent, a mixture of roses and milk. Holding his children always made him feel protective and tender at the same time, and this was no exception.

He eyed his friend, who looked half asleep himself, and said, "I think we can put them down now, Jeff. Before we both fall asleep here with them in our arms."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, you're right. I don't want to risk dropping Little Jeff on his head," Jefferson said, standing up with Rum's son in his arms.

They tiptoed back into Rumple's bedroom, where Belle slept the sleep of the exhausted, as she had been up just three hours previous, feeding the twins herself, and laid the twins in their cradle. Rumple gently pulled up the velvety soft blanket about them, and smiled when he saw Bella's hand come out and grasp her brother's, as if she couldn't bear to be apart from him for very long.

"She always do that?" Jeff queried.

"Ever since they were born," Rumple said. "And probably before, according to Granny."

"They're like two peas in a pod."

"I know, and the gods help us all when they get bigger," Rumple said. "I have a feeling these two are going to be mischief incarnate."

"Not my Little Jeff," Jefferson protested.

"Ha! If he's anything like his uncle, he'll conspire to make my hair gray before I'm forty," Rumple stated.

"No, that's his sister there, if she's anything like Alice," Jeff disagreed.

"Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll be like me or Belle," speculated the sorcerer.

"Either way, buddy, you're screwed," Jeff said, laughing quietly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Jeff turned thirty-six at the very end of February, and spent a rather quiet birthday with the Golds and Alice, though he did go out with Alice for a hand of cards at the Goose after his birthday dinner.

This time he drank just enough to have a good time with his fiancé, and came back to the castle almost sober. He had received some fine gifts from Rum and Belle and their kids, like a glittering suit of mail and a new scabbard for his sword, a new pack for his gear, a fine braided halter for Deuce, a shaving kit, a bottle of fine men's cologne, a book on military tactics, and a bottle of Golden Boar with a cut crystal shot glass.

Laughing, he and Alice climbed the stairs to their suite in the east wing, and there they celebrated with chocolates, strawberries, a bottle of Golden Aspen champagne, and some very heated kisses. The kissing might well have led to other things, but they both fell asleep before anything else could occur, on the couch entwined in each other's arms. It was the best birthday Jefferson ever had.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Alice decided to move the date of their wedding up a month, and have it on April 19th, so as not to interfere with the twins christening. So that meant the girls and Belle were busy sewing new dresses for themselves and also Alice.

"I could always get married in my best set of breeches and tunic," Alice told Belle as her best friend measured her for her wedding gown. "Save you a lot of aggravation that way."

"Alice, you're crazy! It's not any trouble, and Rum just spun you this fantastic silver silk thread and it compliments Aurora's fine cotton cloth beautifully. Now you just hush and let us make you into a dazzling beauty and watch Jeff faint dead away on the floor when he sees you."

"Oh, sure, Belle. Like that'll ever happen. I'm no beauty like you," Alice disagreed.

"Of course you are. Your hair is like thick cornsilk and Elaina can dress it with pearls and sapphires and you've got a figure on you that any woman would envy, especially since you're thirty-four and still have a waist a man can span with two hands."

"You're not so bad yourself, girlfriend."

"I think I've still got a few pounds to lose since the twins were born," Belle chuckled. "Now stand still and let me see how this blue lace looks ruched on the right side."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

While Belle and the girls worked on Alice's dress, Rumple did the same with Jeff, weaving him a fine suit and jacket to go with a set of shiny black shoes and a silk shirt with gold buttons.

"Oww! Damn it, Rum, you just stuck me again!" Jeff yelped.

"If you'd stop squirming like you were Phillip's age, I wouldn't," Rumple pointed out, as he attempted to fit the jacket and pants to his friend. "Now hold still! Or must I magic you to the floor?"

"I wish you'd magic this suit to fit me," Jeff grumbled.

"Bite your tongue, Jefferson Hatter," scolded the former spinner. "You have the best spinner and weaver in seven kingdoms and you're complaining?"

"No . . . it's just . . . you know I hate being still for long periods of time, Rum." As if to prove his point, he twitched his left leg. "Hey! You stuck me again!"

Rumple gritted his teeth, "Jeff, I'm going to stick you right in your stubborn ass if you don't quit moving!" He quickly pinned up the pants and then the jacket. "There! Done. Gods, you're worse than Phillip."

"You've had me standing here for an hour and a half! It's boring!"

"How old are you again, Jeff? Six or thirty-six? Because sometimes I'm not sure." His friend said. "Now be careful when you step out of them, because I'll have to do it all over if you knock the pins out."

"You sound like my grandma, Rum."

"You're lucky she's not here, pal. Or else she'd box your ears for giving me a hard time."

Jefferson muttered a few things Rumple could go do with his box of pins, some of them anatomically impossible. But he was very careful when he changed clothes.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Finally the big day arrived, and Jeff and Alice ate a wedding breakfast alone in their suite of heart-shaped waffles with fresh berries, walnuts, strawberry syrup and cream and paper thin crepes stuffed with ham, cheese, and spinach. There was also coffee with cinnamon shavings on top, apple juice, and fruit cut into wedding bell shapes.

"We'll have to remember to thank Ivy and Myrnin for this later," said Alice. "But right now I'm starved, so let's eat!"

"You said it, honey!" Jeff agreed, and began cutting up his waffle. As he ate the first bite he groaned in pleasure. "Oh, I think I've died and gone straight to paradise! These are soo good!"

"Mmm! Those two ought to open up a restaurant and a cooking school," Alice agreed. "This is so good I could lick the plate."

They finished the waffles and moved onto the crepes, which they fed each other, laughing when Alice got some cheese on Jeff's shirt.

"Boy, am I lucky I'm not wearing that fancy suit yet," he snickered. "Rum would charm the pin cushion to come after me and stick me if I got that dirty!"

"And I'd be laughing my ass off," Alice declared, her blue eyes twinkling.

"Oh, real nice, Alice! Now there's loyalty for you!" Jeff pretended indignation.

"Oh, I'm loyal to you, sugar. But that doesn't mean I can't laugh at you for being a lunatic and pissing off Rumple," she stated. Then she fed him another bite.

Once they had finished, it was time to go and get dressed, and they separated, for custom dictated the first time they saw each other as bride and groom would be the temple where they said their vows before the god and goddess of love.

Alice went over to Belle's room to get a bath and dress in her beautiful gown, which had been completed the week before.

Elaina, Aurora, Rennie, and Snow were there as well as Belle to greet her and help her with her bath and hair. There was a lot of good natured teasing as they brushed her hair and drew the dress over her head. Rennie applied a bit of eyeshadow to her eyes and a small bit of lip gloss. Aurora sprayed her with attar of roses.

"And now, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," Belle chanted, and she pulled out of a box a pair of shiny blue dancing shoes. "Do you remember these, Alice? You always wanted to borrow them when we were girls."

"Thunderation, Belle!" Alice gasped. "You've still got them?"

"I do, and you're going to wear them today," she said, and knelt to fasten them on. "That takes care of the something borrowed and blue parts. And the dress is new."

Alice pulled a small cameo from her chemise pocket. "And here's my ma's cameo, something old."

Rennie pinned it to the bodice of her gown while Elaina arranged her hair in fanciful loops and braids entwined with strings of seed pearls and sapphires, topped off with a crown of blue irises and tiny white rosebuds.

"Okay, Mom, she's ready!" Elaina crowed.

All the girls sighed and clapped.

"Alice, you're gorgeous!" Belle exclaimed. "Jeff's eyes are going to fall out of his head."

"Yeah, knock him dead, Aunt Alice!" the girls chorused.

Alice smiled. "You know, I can't wait to see the expression on his face."

Then the girls and Belle went to get ready as well, leaving Alice staring bemusedly into Belle's mirror and wondering where the hardened mercenary had gone and who the beautiful lady was that had taken her place.

Rumple and Belle were Alice and Jeff's best man and matron of honor, and all the Gold children were their attendants. Myrnin and Puck held the twins while they all processed up the aisle, with all the Card Captors and the villagers of Valley Way present at the ceremony.

Alice gasped when she saw her groom, who was surely the most handsome man in all the realms, waiting for her at the alter. "Oh, gods! He's criminally handsome, Belle!"

"He sure is, girlfriend! Now get up there and grab him before someone else does," Belle laughed. "Congratulations, Alice, and may you be lucky and blessed forever!"

Jeff nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw Alice for the first time. "Holy gods!" he whispered. "She's like a vision of the goddess, Rum!"

"I know. And she's all yours, Jeff!" Rumple clapped him on the back. "May you be happy and blessed always, brother of mine."

Jeff beamed at his bride, who took his hand gracefully, and he kissed it before turning to face Geppetto, who officiated at this wedding as he had at Belle and Rumple's. He spoke his vows with a lump in his throat.

Alice spoke hers clearly, but her sapphire eyes glistened with tears as Jeff put a beautiful gold wedding band on her finger.

But her eyes were dry when they kissed at last, sealing their vows with the age old promise of true love. When they came up for air at last, Alice said, "I love you, Jeff."

"And I love you, Alice Hatter. You can give me orders anytime, captain."

"Good. Because here's the first one. I want you to dance with me till these blue slippers are worn through!"

Jeff bowed and took her arm and they walked down the aisle to the cheers of their company and friends, ducking the flying pieces of confetti and almonds thrown at them.

"I can do that, beautiful lady. And when you've danced those shoes to ribbons, I'll carry you back to the castle and make love to you until cock crows," he promised, giving her that devilish grin she loved so well.

"Let's do it then, Lieutenant!" she laughed, her eyes sparkling like the sapphires she wore in her hair.

And so they did, dancing every single dance the musicians played, from slow ones to fast ones and everything inbetween. They also danced with other partners, Jeff twirled about with Belle for one set, making her laugh with his roguish comments, and Alice partnered Rumple, and grinned as he told her she was as fair as a mountain rose.

Then they separated, returning to each other, and performing reel after reel and twirling elegantly to the waltzes and promenades.

And at last the stars came out and Alice spun about one last time in Jeff's arms, showing him the toe of one slipper, which was cracked and broken. "Guess you kept your promise, Jeff."

"I always do, sweetheart," he said, kissing her again. "But we'll have to wait till we're alone for me to keep the other one."

"I look forward to it, Master Hatter. When I was a girl, I dreamed of dancing at a ball with a man who could make me dance my slippers through, a man who loved just plain old Alice Sharpe, and not some fancy bubbleheaded highborn lady. But no man ever made that dream a reality . . . until you."

Jeff pulled her closed and whispered seductively in her ear, "I dreamed lots of dreams, my Alice. But the best one was to find a woman who could be my equal and partner, both on and off the battlefield, who was as graceful dancing as she was sparring with a sword, and who loved me the way Belle loves Rum. And you appeared at their wedding, and captured my heart and you've held it ever since."

She stood on tiptoe then and kissed him, and that kiss stole their breath and bound them together, each to the other, for all of time, as they danced the last dance beneath the stars, their happy ending fulfilled at last.

**A/N: How did you like this part? Just a side note-the song Rum sings to Bella is one I invented, well, I wrote the lyrics and my nephew, who's as talented as Finn, set them to music.**


	64. A Surprise in Springtime

**64**

**A Surprise in Springtime**

Jeff and Alice took two weeks for their honeymoon, renting the same cottage at the seashore that their best friends had. While Jeff and Alice were kicking up their heels at the seashore, and celebrating their marital bliss, several other young lovers were also celebrating theirs in various ways. And not just the young ones either.

One morning, Rumple found Belle sitting in their rocker in their bedroom, nursing Dickon while Bella napped in the cradle. She was pushing the cradle with one foot and holding their son in her arms while he suckled. She was looking down at her baby and she had this dreamy contented look on her face. It was so serene and peaceful that he didn't wish to disturb her by breaking the silence, and so he just leaned against the doorjamb and watched her for several minutes, not saying anything.

He drank in the sight of her, his brown eyes sparkling with love for her, his heart, his soul, and the mother of all his children. Watching her with Dickon reminded him of the statues of the Mother Goddess in the temple, with her holy twins on her lap. She bore the same look the Mother did on her face—serene, wise, and beautiful to behold. Her hair fell softly over one shoulder, clad in a pink wrapper and button-up floral print nightgown, which he'd made for her so she could nurse the twins easily.

He knew that some would say he was lucky, to have married such a beautiful woman, and one who was a princess, no less. And he was, but not for the reasons most people thought. He had fallen in love with Belle not just because of their physical attraction, though there was no denying they had plenty of that! He had fallen in love with her mind and her perceptive heart as well. Her quick wit and love of learning matched his own, and her heart saw past the myth and mystique of the Gold sorcerer to the man hidden beneath it, the lonely man who had needed a friend as well as a lover, and someone who shared his dreams of a companion that would fulfill him in all ways.

And she had, beyond his wildest imaginings. As he quietly watched her, smiling a little at the tableau she unknowingly presented, love flowing like a quick rising spring flood through his body, Belle looked up and their eyes met.

"Hey," she said, her blue eyes crinkling as she smiled back at him. "Dickon woke and was hungry, so I decided to feed him early, since Bella's asleep for once while he's awake. Come and join us, Rum. Most of the kids are still asleep, right?"

"Yes, dearie," he answered and limped over to the bench at the foot of their bed and sat down on it, nearby where she rocked the cradle and nursed their son. "The only ones awake are Ivy, Myrnin, Bae, Jack, and Finn, everyone else is sleeping in still. Oh, and I think Puck went out to hunt up something with Rowan at first light, but I'm sure they'll come home in time for breakfast. The other five are cooking and doing their usual chores around the place."

"It's a beautiful morning," Belle said, then she gently removed Dickon from her breast and put him on her shoulder to burp him. Her son fussed a bit at being denied his breakfast even for such a small amount of time, crying irritably. "Shh, pretty boy," she crooned to him as she patted his back. "You have to burp for Mama first, otherwise your tummy will hurt and you won't want to eat."

Dickon fussed a bit longer, whimpering and squirming angrily, but Belle patiently rubbed and patted until he burped, then she put him back to nurse. "He's such a good baby," she told his father. "He's usually calm and happy. Bella's the more temperamental of them, but neither of them are as bad as Rafe, he was like quicksilver, happy as a lark one minute and screaming his head off the next minute."

"Bae was like that as a baby, like Dickon, I mean," Rumple recalled. "We were lucky, Milah and I. To give the devil her due, Milah was a decent mother when Bae was small, before he turned two and started testing his boundaries and getting into everything. I think it was then that she began getting dissatisfied with her life with us and wanting to leave, and I just didn't see it until one day when I came home early from the market, I'd sold all my thread and thought I'd surprise her with the money I'd made."

Belle frowned and said, "Why do I think something bad happened when you got home?"

"Because something did," Rumple said gravely. "I'd just gotten to the door when I heard Bae screaming, and I thought he's fallen and gotten hurt or something. I ran inside, well, as much as I can run with this leg of mine, and found Milah in a rage, walloping my two-and-a-half year old on his bare behind with her hairbrush. I have never moved so fast in my life as I did then. I think I screamed, "What the hell do you think you're _doing_?" at her before I ripped the brush out of her hand and threw it across the room. Then I grabbed poor Bae away from her. She was livid, told me something about whatever it was he'd done, broke something, and I was interfering with her discipline! I got mad then and screamed at her that no kid deserved her kind of discipline no matter what he'd done—he had bruises on him, Belle—and told her if she ever did something like that again to my son, I'd paddle _her_ ass with that brush and see how she liked it!"

"And what did she say to that?"

"She just laughed at me, she didn't believe me, because I'd never hit anyone or anything before, and I didn't believe in violence towards women—I still don't—but I meant what I said, I would have done it, I was so angry. My poor son! I held him all night after that, and I didn't speak to Milah for a week. I promised myself no child of mine would go through what I had, and so I started taking Bae with me whenever I had to go out, and I rarely left him alone with her after that. Not that he wanted to be alone with her, mind you. He was scared to death of her, and would cling to me and cry when she tried to hold him sometimes, and she would sneer and call him a crybaby coward . . . like me."

"She makes me want to wring her neck," Belle said, her eyes blazing. "I'm so glad she left you, Rum. She would have driven me to commit murder. Gaston was the absent rakehell, but at least he was never abusive towards my children. Oh, once in awhile he'd swat Rafe on the bottom for touching his bow or his knife, but when he was there, which was barely, he was good with them. _I_ was the one he had a problem with."

Rumple snorted. "_He _was the one with the problem, sweetheart. He couldn't keep his damn pants buttoned when a girl in skirts walked by. And I can't figure that out, when he had a wife like you to come home to. There was definitely something wrong with him."

"Yes, I'd have to agree. Sometimes I wonder if he did the same with Jeanette, and suspect he probably did, since men like him just can't stay faithful to one woman for long. But at least now he's providing flowers for my table, which is something he never did when he was a man." Dickon squalled angrily when she went to burp him a second time.

That in turn woke Bella, who also started howling.

Rumple winced and said, "There goes the heavenly chorus again." It was a joke between them, for the twins' crying sounded anything _but_ heavenly, especially when you were woken from a sound sleep every three or four hours. But sometimes you just had to see the humor in a situation, or risk going out of your mind_._ He went over and picked up his daughter, cuddling his irate baby, and saying softly, "Little Miss Bella, you're like a cauldron erupting. Calm down now, baby girl. Shh, dearie!"

Bella continued screaming, and Rumple said, "Let me see if she needs to be changed. Be right back."

Once he had departed with fussy Bella, Dickon stopped wailing so loudly and finally burped again, and Belle kissed and snuggled with him. "You're Mama's sweet boy, aren't you, Dickon?"

Dickon made happy cooing noises as she rubbed her nose on his and laughed when he tried to grab it with his tiny hand. "You've got your papa's temperament, don't you, sweet thing? And your sister, gods help her, is like her Grandpa Maurice, making a lot of noise over nothing."

Belle had loved her father dearly, but Maurice had liked to bellow over things sometimes, though it was mostly bluff, and he was hardly the stern monarch he pretended he was . . . and his advisors had known that. It had been one reason the mountain trolls had been able to take over Avonlea so quickly, because someone had betrayed them and let them inside the city walls . . . though to this day Belle had no idea who had done so and hoped whoever it was had paid for his stupidity and gotten eaten by a troll.

Dickon seemed full, so she tickled him and blew raspberries on his tummy until Rumple returned with Bella, who had stopped screaming and was now looking about her, one hand gripping her father's ear. "She's in a better mood now."

"She needed a new diaper and she has a bit of a rash, so I put some extra salve on her and some wool fluff for extra padding, it'll whisk up the moisture better. I ought to do that for Dickon too, so he doesn't get sore."

"That's very clever, Rum."

"Learned that trick with Ivy. She was very sensitive, she'd break out every day without that," he shrugged. "Hey, pretty girl, don't pull Papa's ear off, okay? I need it."

"I'll take her, Rum. She's probably hungry now, and he's full." They switched twins, with Belle taking her daughter and Rum holding Dickon, who was starting to fall asleep.

As Belle nursed Arabella, Rumple took his son into the nursery to pad his diaper also, then tickled his tummy and played with him until Dickon yawned and then he picked him up and rocked him until he fell asleep sucking a fist. Rumple put a bib on him, since Dickon had a tendency to drool in his sleep, then carried him back inside the bedroom and held him until Bella was done eating and Belle played with her also until she grew sleepy.

Bella reached out her hand and tugged Belle's hair.

"Ouch! Don't pull Mama's hair, imp! That hurts."

Bella looked startled. She tugged again and again Belle told her the same thing. Her mother gently removed her fist from her hair and said, "Here, baby girl. Grab Mama's robe." She put the tiny fist over a fold of her robe and had it close upon it.

Soon Bella was sucking on her fist, part of the robe, and putting her head down and just lying there. "She asleep, Rum?"

"No. She's fighting it, dearie."

Belle rocked back and forth, singing and patting her recalcitrant daughter until Bella surrendered at last and closed her eyes.

Once she was asleep, they placed both babies in the cradle and left the room, after Rumple set a ward up to warn him when they woke. Not that they really needed it, for both twins could scream loud enough to be heard at the Shepherd's place when they felt like it, or so it seemed.

When they came downstairs, Ivy had breakfast warming for them, and she said, "Get the twin terrors asleep?"

"Yes, they're sleeping like rugs," Belle laughed. "What's on everyone's agenda today?" It was a Sunday, so the children were free to do what they wanted after chores were done.

"I'm going down to the village to meet Arachne and discuss some new ideas for a dress," Aurora said. "Then I'm meeting Archie for lunch at Mistress Pelham's."

"I can't believe you're talking dress designs with Arachne," Ariel said. "Did you magic her to be nice, Papa?"

"No, of course not," her father replied. "Arachne's finally decided to turn over a new leaf, that's all."

"Guess that switch she got in her stocking helped," Jack remarked.

"Either that or Papa beat her when we weren't looking," speculated Peter.

"I did _not_ beat her," Rumple objected. "I simply informed her that I wouldn't tolerate any of her tantrums, and since coming for lessons with me, she's decided to behave."

"I'll bet Rufus is probably fainting over his new and improved daughter," Bae said.

"I think Rufus had something to do with Arachne's behavior," Belle put in. "Namely the fact that I helped save his life after the battle for the castle. Once she saw that we were decent people, and not out to get her, she realized her mistake and is trying to do better. While you're seeing her, Rory, give her this from me," Belle handed her daughter a white card. "It's an invitation the twins' christening in a few weeks. And here's one for Archie too."

"May I have one for Charming and Miss Bea?" asked Snow. "I'll be visiting them today."

"Me too, Mom. I'll give it to Merrin, 'cause Ray and I are practicing jumping on Rogue and Sunny," Jack said.

"Be careful, Jack," warned his father.

"I will, Papa. Merrin won't let us jump unless he's there watching," his intrepid son assured him.

"Maybe you should watch too, Rum," Belle suggested.

"Maybe I should," he agreed, for he didn't like the two youngsters doing something so dangerous, even with adult supervision.

"I'm going over Ruby's to play," said Kristen.

"And I'm going over Pinocchio's house. Geppetto's gonna show us how to paint puppets," Phillip said.

"Elaina and I are going tracking with Puck," said Rafe.

"Bae and I are taking a walk," said Rennie.

"I'm making soup for lunch," said Ivy.

"And I'm making potions for next week," Myrnin said.

"I have the recipes already out on the table, lad," Rumple informed his apprentice, who was the only one he allowed inside his lab without himself being present.

"Tom and I are hunting crickets," Nick said.

"With Gingy and Puss," Tom added.

"Nora and I are going to pick roses," Jasmine declared. "And make crowns with them."

"While Clary and I play hospital in my room," said June.

"And Ariel and I are composing a new song and I'm helping her practice her mandolin," Finn added.

"I'm taking a nap," Peter said. "I didn't get enough sleep last night because Bella and Dickon were screaming."

"All right, let's clean up from breakfast, and after everything's done, you can go do whatever you want to," Belle said, clapping her hands.

Once everything was shipshape, some of the children departed the castle, while others remained behind, and Belle fed Sweetheart some sugar and brushed her, letting her out to play with Flicker in the pasture before going inside to her stillroom to concoct more salve for her babies and make up some tonics for coughs and colds, since they'd probably need some the way they always did in the spring. Granny was still filling in for her at Shoe House, but that didn't mean Belle couldn't make medicines for her own family, and that was what she planned to do while Rumple was next door visiting Merrin and keeping an eye on Jack.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Aurora whistled as she made her way down to the village with a small package under her arm containing some dress patterns and some sample swatches of fabric, ribbons, and lace to show Arachne. Now that Arachne was trying to be friendly, Aurora found she wasn't a dreadful person after all, just bossy and opinionated, and since coming over to the castle, was trying to be less so.

Aurora knocked on the door to the Miller's house and it was opened by Arachne herself. "Come in," she said, letting Aurora inside. "We can look at the patterns in my room, where my nosy brothers won't bother us."

As she led the way upstairs, a hazelnut almost hit Rory in the arm. "Hey, what was that?"

Arachne turned around and yelled, "Bernie and Ben, knock it off! You know Mom said no slingshots in the house."

"Aww, we were just playing, Arachne," said her little brother, Bernard.

"And you almost shot Rory," Arachne growled.

"It was an accident."

"Accident, my foot! Go outside, before you shoot your eye out!" his sister ordered.

Bernard stuck his tongue out at her. "You ain't the boss of me!"

"I'll tell Dad," she threatened.

"Okay, I'm going!" he vanished around the corner.

"Little brothers!" Arachne huffed. "Sometimes you just want to sell them to the Gypsies, you know?"

"Uh huh," Aurora nodded. "Tell me what you think of these."

The girls spent a pleasant hour and a half looking at the dress patterns and deciding on fabrics and lace and trim. Aurora sketched in some suggestions Arachne had for different styles on the fabric and then handed her the invitation to the christening.

"Thanks for inviting us," Arachne said. "Though I'm going to suggest to Dad he tie my brothers to the mill wheel instead of letting them come, they're always in so much trouble. I'm sorry they're such pests."

"Little boys usually are," Aurora said. "We'll talk more when you come by later next weekend, okay. Now I have to meet Archie."

Arachne blushed, though she no longer pursued the shy boy. "Okay. Tell him I said hi."

"Troy Pelham told me the other day to say hi to you," Aurora said. He was Annie's eldest and in their class at school.

Arachne squealed in glee. "Troy told you that? Is he working at the bakery today?"

"Probably. Why don't you come along and see?"

"Okay! Let me get my shawl!"

The two girls hurried down the street to Pelham's Bakery, where they found Archie waiting for Rory and Troy was working behind the counter. Arachne stayed over there to talk with him, and soon he came out and sat down with her at one of the small tables.

"Hey, Archie!" Aurora greeted him.

"Hey, Rory! How's your new baby brother and sister doing?" he asked politely.

"They're fine. But sometimes they get their days and nights mixed up," she laughed. "Kind of like me. Let's sit down."

They made their way to a table and sat down. Soon a freckle faced girl came and took their order for two malted milk shakes and two pastry wraps of bacon and cheese.

"I'll have to come and see them sometime," Archie said. "I've got a gift for them."

"Come anytime, you know that. Or you can see them at the christening," Aurora said, handing him the invitation, written in gold script.

"Wow! An invitation just for me!" he exclaimed. "I feel like somebody important."

"You are. Someday you'll be a professor and people will call on you for advice and stuff," Aurora said knowingly.

Archie blushed. "I've got to go to college first."

"Well, you heard what my mom said. She'll sponsor you, and Papa will give you a grant if you need it."

"I wish I didn't, but with the way my parents spend money . . ." Archie sighed dolefully. "Anyway, what did you think of that last test old Vega gave? I didn't think it was that hard, did you?"

"Not really . . ."

They talked about their upcoming exams in school and then their food came. They ate hungrily, and once they were done, Archie insisted on paying for lunch over Aurora's protests.

Then they went for a walk down the street, with Archie holding Rory's hand. "You know, that day when Regina's army came, I was scared to death you'd be hurt . . . or . . . killed or something," he told her earnestly.

"Me too. It was awful. I hope I never have to live through something like that again. Papa nearly died because of that filthy witch and her allies."

"I know. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help, but Dirk made me promise to stay here. He said since I wasn't trained for war, all I'd do was get myself killed. I guess he was right."

Aurora nodded. "A lot of good people were hurt or died that day. I'm glad you stayed here, Archie. It was the smart thing to do."

"Well, that's what I'm good at. Doing the smart thing."

"And it's a good thing you are. I don't want a stupid boyfriend," she said then.

His cheeks reddened. "Aww, Rory. It's just . . . for once I thought I could be . . . a hero . . . like in all the tales."

She turned and looked at him. "Archie Hopper, I'd rather you be a live boyfriend then a dead hero. Because then I couldn't do this."

Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

At the first touch of her lips on his, he felt a quiver run through him, like lightning on a rod, and then he put his arms about her and kissed her back. And suddenly he was very grateful he hadn't joined up that day. Because kissing Aurora was like tasting heaven, and he didn't have to be dead in order to do it.

Aurora thought kissing Archie was like spinning fine thread, it made her feel joyful and complete. Her hands tangled in his red hair and she thanked the gods again for making sure he had been kept safe on that horrible day, when she had feared her family and her world was going to be destroyed. She could not have borne it if something had happened to her sensitive and gentle boyfriend, who sweet personality and boyish good looks drew her to him like a moth to a flame.

Finally she drew away, and said, "I don't need a hero, Archie. All I need is for you to love me."

"Then you have your wish, Aurora Gold," he grinned. "And someday when I'm finished with college I'm going to ask your papa for your hand . . . if that's okay with you?"

"Of course it is!" Aurora smiled. "I'll be right here waiting for you . . . and dreaming up new dress designs."

"Maybe you could open up a shop of your own?"

"Yes! That's a brilliant idea. I'll talk it over with my parents and Elaina. Maybe even Arachne could help us."

"_She's_ sure changed. What'd your papa do to her, give her a Friendly Potion?"

"No, silly! He gave her a second chance to grow up . . . or something like that. Come on, let's walk down to the creek by Shoe House."

So they did, holding hands, the picture of innocent young love in bloom.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Snow took Polaris along with her when she went down to visit Charming over at his homestead. The playful black sheepdog mix raced all over, a blur of energy, picking up sticks and prancing about with them one minute and the next barking after squirrels and chipmunks.

Snow giggled at his antics, Polaris was a funny dog, with his star and the way his one ear flopped over. He had, finally, learned not to chew people's boots, and he was almost house trained as well, though he did still have the occasional accident . . . one time right on Jeff's boot!

"Polaris, puppy, I'm not a tree!" the mercenary had yelped. "My good boots!"

Snow had been terribly embarrassed and scolded her dog and taken him outside. She'd offered to buy Jeff a new pair of boots, but Rumple had cleaned them with magic and Jeff said it was fine, but she really needed to teach her dog the difference between trees and human beings.

They still had a good laugh over that one.

Snow decided that someday soon she would ask Charming to help her train her harum-scarum puppy to be a good sheepdog, after all it was in his blood, he came from two champion herders, and Snow had observed that the puppy tried to herd chickens and also Clary, though he got his nose pecked doing the former and his behind swatted by Rum for biting the little girl's ankles. The puppy had quickly learned not to do either again.

Polaris ran yapping around the trees and bushes on either side of the path until Snow reached Charming's house. On the porch, Dusty came down, wagging her tail, and barking happily.

Her son frisked up to her, jumping up and licking her under the chin and then trying to bite her feet. Dusty barked, neatly avoiding her rascal, then darted in and nipped the misbehaving puppy on his ear.

Polaris yipped and cringed, and Dusty barked at him then licked his face.

"All's forgiven, now don't do it again," Snow said, shaking her head. "Polaris, when will you learn to be good?"

"When he grows up, probably," chuckled Charming, coming around the side of the cottage. "Hello, Snow! Miss me?"

Snow rushed over to him and hugged him. "I always miss you, Charming, you know that!" She kissed him ardently. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Ugh! You smell like . . . sheep."

"Sorry, I was just feeding an orphaned lamb," he chuckled. "Didn't have time to wash up yet."

"A lamb! Can I see it?" Snow exclaimed.

He laughed at her enthusiasm. "You're like a city kid on a field trip. I keep forgetting you never saw livestock until you moved here," Charming said. "Come on, the barn's over here. Just be careful where you step, the sheep are _not_ house trained." He took her around the cottage to where they had the sheep pens and into the barn.

There, in a stall, was a tiny lamb, still fuzzy and blue-eyed. "This is Cotton," Charming said. "Don't look at me, I didn't name him, Mom did."

"Oh, Charming! He's adorable!" Snow cried, and knelt down to let the lamb smell her hand. "Look at his little hooves! And his fluffy coat!" She stroked the lamb's head and body.

Cotton nuzzled her, bleating. She laughed and petted him some more.

Charming watched her, his eyes dancing. He loved how enthusiastic she was over every aspect of his ordinary everyday life. Most princesses wouldn't be caught dead kneeling in a stall full of straw and letting a lamb lick them, getting their shoes and dress covered with hay and barn dirt. But then, he had come to the conclusion that Snow White was anything but ordinary a long time ago. And he loved her even more because of it.

Snow petted the lamb for awhile, until Polaris came in and frisked up to the lamb, barking. "No!" Snow scolded when the sheepdog would have nipped the lamb's ankle. "You can't herd him, Polaris! He's a baby and so are you."

Charming reached down and picked up the little puppy. "Hey, fellow! You've got good instincts, but bad timing." Polaris squirmed and licked his cheek. "Come on, let's bring you in the house, before you startle the sheep and there's a stampede here."

Snow stood up, brushing off her skirt. "Now _I_ smell like sheep too."

"That's typical around here," Charming said, and carefully latched the barn door before leading Snow around to the pump so they could wash off before going inside to meet his mother.

Polaris ran about their legs in circles, barking.

"Dog, you sure are crazy!" Charming said. "But then, they're all like that at his age. Rex ate Mom's wooden spoon when he was a pup, and her good pair of shoes. I had holes in all my breeches too from him jumping up and trying to herd me, he was like a pair of jaws!"

"But now he's a perfect gentleman," Snow pointed out.

"Yeah, he's four now, so he's outgrown the "I'm nuts" stage," her boyfriend told her. Then he bent and kissed her, unable to resist the way her lips beckoned to him.

He kissed her until she was sure she could barely walk, his kisses made her head spin. Then she kissed him back, feeling an unfamiliar heat grow in her, like a bonfire igniting.

They would have continued but then they heard Bea's voice, calling, "Jim? It's time for lunch! Now where's that boy got to?"

Charming cleared his throat, then called, "Be right there, Mom! And set an extra plate, 'cause Snow's here!"

Snow grinned, still flushed a rosy pink, and said, "We'd better go inside, it's not polite to keep her waiting."

"Yeah, I know. Come on."

They entered the homey cottage and found Bea setting an extra plate at the table and a cup filled with water. "Hello, Snow! It's been awhile! How's your folks all doing? Getting much sleep since the twins have been born?"

"Not too much, though Mama and Papa are up most of the night with them," Snow said. "Otherwise, we're good. Oh, and here's something for you." She handed Bea the invitation.

"How lovely! I haven't been to a christening in years!" Bea clapped her hands. "We'll have to get your old suit out of the attic, Jim, and see if you still fit in it. If not I'm sure I can ask Missus Pearson to alter it."

"Or Papa will," Snow offered.

"I couldn't ask Rum to do that. He's got his hands full with those new babies," Bea said. "Polly will be just fine. And I can wear one of my fancy dresses . . . well, as fancy as I get out here. The green muslin with the frosted lace will be fine. Now I just have to think of a gift. . . But in the meantime, Snow, sit down and have some lunch. I've made chicken and dumplings and some yeast rolls."

Polaris ran out from under the table and tried to chase Rex, who barked at the puppy. The black dog jumped on top of the older one, until Rex shook Polaris off and pinned him to the ground, growling in his face.

Polaris whimpered, turning his face from the alpha male, then Rex, satisfied the puppy had learned his lesson, let him up.

Rex lay down at Bea's feet, and Polaris crept next to him and also lay down.

"Rex will teach him manners if anyone will," Bea said, dishing up the chicken and dumplings.

"I'm glad someone can," Snow said ruefully. "Though he does mind Papa."

"I think everyone minds Rum," said Charming. "Even Arachne Miller."

"Or else she'll be walking out the door on eight legs," Bea said, tasting her food. "Hmm . . . this batch is better than my last one."

"Mmm, delicious as usual, Mom," Charming told her, eating eagerly.

"Can I have the recipe, Miss Bea? It's really excellent!" Snow praised. It was so good she practically licked her fingers when her plate was empty.

"Would you like some more?" Bea inquired.

"Umm . . ." Snow hesitated, she was hungry but didn't want to seem like a pig.

"Go ahead, Snow. Have some more. I am," Charming said, and held out his plate for a refill.

"Yes, please," she said, and Bea gave her a second helping.

"I like a girl with a hearty appetite," Charming whispered to her. "A person who enjoys food enjoys life too."

Snow blushed and ate some more chicken and dumplings, thinking that he was absolutely right. Regna had always picked at her food, sending it back to the kitchen, and she was the most miserable person Snow knew. Her only joy seemed to be making others unhappy.

"Now how about some cake and coffee?" Bea asked once they had finished what was on their plates.

"I'm stuffed, Mom!" Charming said. "I can't possibly . . ." Then he saw the cake Bea was bringing over to the table. "Is that your double fudge vanilla drizzle cake? I always have room for that!"

"It's his favorite!" laughed his mother. "I always made it on his birthday."

"I could eat a whole one by myself," Charming admitted. "And once, when Bae and I were kids, like ten I think, we . . . uh . . . we found one cooling on the counter there and we . . . helped ourselves to it."

"It was supposed to be a get well gift for sick Lanie Preston, and those two rascals ate the whole thing!" Bea recalled.

"And boy, did we get our ears chewed off! And on top of that we got stomachaches too. Then she made Rum give us some totally disgusting medicine for it and I almost threw up."

"It was cod liver oil," Bea snickered. "And it served you right! I had no time to bake a new cake, so I had to buy one from Annie Pelham, and it cost me three days worth of carded wool."

"And I've apologized like six thousand times for it," Charming said. "But I still love eating it."

The cake, which was a two pound loaf cake, was moist and rich, with a chocolaty pudding like center and vanilla icing drizzled over the top of it in ribbons.

Snow took one bite and sighed in rapture. "Oh, gods! This is too good! And I shouldn't eat this, I'm so full, but . . . I'm going to. Even if I do get a stomachache later." She began to eat her slice.

"Just tell Rum and he'll give you some cod liver oil," Charming teased.

"Jim!" scolded Bea. "That was meant as a kind of punishment, not to cure you. You drink chamomile tea or peppermint tea for an upset stomach, as he knows perfectly well."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Snow said. "After all it's one piece, not a whole cake!"

"Half a cake," Charming corrected. "Bae ate the other half."

"Wretches!" his mother shook a finger at him. Then she cut herself a piece as well.

They all enjoyed the scrumptious dessert, and Bea gave Snow the recipe for it as well as the chicken and dumplings.

Snow remained for another hour and a half, playing rummy with Charming and Bea before reluctantly saying it was time for her to go home.

"I'll escort you back to the castle," said Charming. Then he took her arm and with Polaris at their heels, they walked back up the path. "I need to speak with Rum about something."

Snow glanced at him speculatively. "Is it something . . . important?"

"A little," Charming said evasively. They continued walking, and Snow reveled in the feeling Charming's touch gave her. She felt special—wanted, needed, and cherished—whenever he touched her. He was the only man she had ever felt like that with.

Finally they reached the castle, and Charming accompanied her inside. They found Rumple showing Clary how to burp her doll on the sofa. Clary looked up as Charming entered and beamed at him. "Hiya, Jim! Papa's showing me how to burp my doll so's I can help take care of the twins when they're a little bigger."

"Hey, Clary! I'm sure you're going to be a great big sister," Charming said. "Hello, Rum."

"Hi, Jim. What brings you by?"

"Uh . . . can I talk to you privately, sir?"

Rumple rose. "Sir? Jim, you haven't called me that since the time you and Bae dug a hole in my backyard trying to dig for buried treasure and the cow got stuck in it. And I almost did too."

Clary and Snow started giggling.

Charming looked embarrassed. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Not on your life, boy. I was lucky I didn't break my leg," Rumple snorted. "Now what have you done, David James Shepherd?"

"Me? Nothing!"

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "All right, come with me. We'll talk in my study."

Charming followed, saying softly, "As long as you don't make me write lines."

"Have you dug anymore holes I don't know about?"

"No, of course not."

They disappeared up the stairs. Snow was mystified.

Twenty minutes later, the two men came downstairs. Charming was smiling. So was Rumple.

"Hold on a minute," the sorcerer told the shepherd. "Belle! Can you come over here, dearie?"

Belle came out of the stillroom. "What is it, Rum? Oh, hello, Jim! Will you be staying for supper?"

"Uh . . ." Charming looked flustered.

"He needs to ask Snow something first, Belle," Rumple told her. He looked at the younger man. "Right, James?" He put an arm about his wife.

"Right." Charming cleared his throat. He walked over to Snow and took her hand in his. "Princess Snow White Gold, I've been wondering . . ."

"Charming, what are you doing?" Snow asked, puzzled.

Then she gasped as he went down on one knee.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, slipping a gold diamond ring from his pocket and holding it out to her.

"Oh my gods! You . . . you're asking for my hand!" Snow cried, feeling dizzy.

"Actually, I asked your father for your hand," Charming smiled up at her, his heart in his eyes. "Will you? I know I'm only a shepherd with some strain of royal blood, but I love you with all my heart."

"And that's all that matters. Because I love you always. You'll always be my Prince Charming," she said, and she slid the ring on her finger. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Then she pulled him up and kissed him.

Their kiss was like magic, it swept them away, and for a moment they forgot everything but each other.

Until Bae and Rennie came in the door.

"Whoa! Sorry for interrupting!" Bae said, staring at them. "Uh, Jim . . . you do know my parents are right there?"

Snow broke off the kiss, looking dazed. Then she ran over and hugged Rumple and Belle. "I'm so happy!"

"We are too, dearie!" said Rum, and they both hugged her.

"Okay . . . what the hell just happened here?" Bae frowned.

Snow rushed over to him. "Look, Bae!" She held out her hand.

Bae looked. Then he whistled. "Jim, you sly dog! How come you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Charming said. "Only my mom knew. It's why she made that cake, Snow. She always does on special occasions."

Rennie and Snow hugged each other. Then they compared rings. Then they hugged each other some more, laughing.

Bae went and clapped Charming on the back and hugged him. "Congratulations, brother-in-law! Or you will be when you marry her."

"Yeah, well, that won't be for awhile yet," his friend said. "Not till we depose Regina. You'll probably beat us to the altar, Bae. But who cares?"

Belle wiped tears from her eyes. "It's so wonderful, Rum. Our family's growing by leaps and bounds. Almost overnight."

"Speaking of family, dearie . . . I think the twins are awake," said her husband. Then he teleported upstairs to pick up his babies, who had just woken up from very long naps and were clamoring for attention, and bring them down to join the celebration.

**A/N: So who was surprised? Hope this satisfies all the Snowing fans out there! By the way, if anyone wants that cake recipe, let me know, because it's a real thing-one of my mom's best ones! Just PM me.**


	65. An Unexpected Blessing

**65**

**An Unexpected Blessing**

A few days before the christening, which was scheduled for May 15, Alice came downstairs looking rather ill. It was rather late in the morning, and the children were all at school, and Bae, Myrnin, and Clary were outside playing with Sweetheart, so only Belle was in the kitchen. Belle, who had hardly ever seen her friend sick, asked, "Is something wrong, Alice? You look kind of . . green."

"I feel like I've been on a ten day drunk, Belle. And I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since my wedding," she said.

Belle frowned thoughtfully as she sipped her morning cup of coffee. "Alice . . . when did you last have your monthly?"

"Uh . . . you know, I can't really recall," her friend said. "I've never been really regular in that department, Belle. Maybe . . . before my wedding?"

"Then you haven't gotten it since your wedding?"

"Uh . . . no . . ."

"Now describe your symptoms to me."

"Well, I feel like crap. Tired, my head hurts, my back aches, and I feel sort of queasy. Like I have the flu."

"Come here for a minute," Belle said.

Alice rose and came about the table.

Belle felt her forehead, peered into her throat. "Hmm. No sore throat, no fever." Then she laid her hand on Alice's stomach and sent a trickle of her Healing Gift into the other woman.

"What's wrong with me, Belle?"

Belle grinned. "Absolutely nothing!"

"What do you mean . . . nothing? I feel terrible!" Alice grumbled.

"I know. But there's nothing wrong with you . . . except you're pregnant!"

Alice put a hand to her mouth. "Oh. My. Gods. Are you sure? Hells, of course you're sure, you're a Healer and a mom, why am I even asking that? I'm so stupid." Then she started grinning. "Oh, just wait till I tell Jeff! He's gonna be over the moon. Where is he, anyway?"

"Upstairs with Rum. I think he's helping Rum dress Dickon . . . or Little Jeff, as he calls him," Belle smirked.

Alice giggled. "Wait till I tell him he could have a Little Jeff of his own!"

Belle hugged her. "I'm so happy for you, Alice! Now we can have children almost the same age . . . like you and I are, and Rum and Jeff."

"I'm gonna go upstairs right now, Belle. Oh, and how long before I stop feeling like this?"

"It's hard to say. Some women don't get sick like I did, unless they're carrying twins. Sometimes the sickness can last a month or two, or longer. It depends."

"Well, I'm going to pray it doesn't last that long," Alice said. Then she turned and walked back upstairs to the nursery, where she found Jeff putting a bib on Dickon that said _Mama's Boy, Full of Joy _and bouncing him on his knee while Rumple dressed Bella in a cute little dress and a bib that said _Papa's Sweet Angel_.

"Good morning, Alice," Rumple greeted her, picking up Bella from the changing table and cuddling her. "Care to hold your goddaughter?"

"I'm always ready to hold my Bella," Alice said, and took her from Rumple. "Sweet thing, Auntie Alice has some wonderful news to share with you all."

"Great, hon. Let's hear it," Jeff said, tickling Dickon and making him giggle.

"Jeff . . . you're going to be a daddy."

"Congratulations, dearie!" Rumple said, smiling.

"Uh . . . Alice? Did I hear you okay? Because for a minute there I thought you said . . ." Jeff looked at his wife, his eyes wide.

"I did, Jeff! I'm going to have a baby. Isn't it great?" she beamed at him.

"You mean . . . I'm going to be a dad?" Jefferson stuttered.

"Uh huh! How do you feel about that, Jeff?" Alice asked. "Jeff? _Jeff?_ Holy hells, Rum! He's . . . _fainted_!"

Rumple quickly grabbed Dickon. Then he started laughing because his best friend, one of the most feared mercenaries and the best swordsman in seven kingdoms, was sitting passed out in a rocking chair.

Alice had her hands on her hips and looked royally pissed off. "Jefferson Hatter!" she growled, it wasn't her parade ground bellow because she didn't want to frighten the twins, but nevertheless it conveyed her displeasure.

For about five seconds.

Then she started laughing too.

"Oh my gods! He's never going to live _this_ one down, Rum! I'm going to tease him about this forever, I swear it! I tell him the best news of my life . . . and he _passes out_! He's fought a dragon, a wyvern, and countless other monsters without batting an eye, but when I tell him he's going to be a father . . . he _faints_ like some maiden in a tale!"

Rumple looked at Alice, then back at Jefferson, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Shall I revive him for you, dearie?"

"Be my guest, Rum."

"Can you please hold Dickon for me?"

Alice took Dickon in her other arm. "C'mere, sweetheart. Let's watch your papa play a joke on Uncle Jeff and laugh our asses off, okay? Oops, I mean our behinds. I've got to remember to watch my mouth around you two, otherwise your mama will make me eat soap."

She grinned like the cat that swallowed the canary, watching in glee as Rumple approached his comatose friend.

"Jeff? Hey, Jefferson, rise and shine!" Rumple called, and went and gave Jeff several love taps on both cheeks.

Jefferson stirred and groaned. But that was all.

"Okay, buddy. . . if you won't wake up when I'm being nice . . . maybe you will now," Rumple smirked. He snapped his fingers three times.

A tiny rain cloud appeared over Jefferson's head. It turned black and a small sonic boom sounded and then it began to rain . . . right onto Jefferson's head.

Jefferson bolted up from the chair. "Ahhh! Rumplestiltskin! What in hell?" He stared down at himself, all dripping wet. "I'm going to kill you!"

"You wouldn't wake up any other way . . ._Papa,_" his best friend pointed out. He banished the rain cloud.

"Hey! How about me?"

Rumple waved a hand and Jeff's clothes dried instantly. "I cannot believe you just _fainted. _Like one of those giddy girls with a too tight corset!" Rumple teased, and started laughing again.

"It was . . . I was in shock!" protested Jefferson, going red. "I never . . . well I did, but . . . not this soon . . . Alice, I can't believe . . . I'm going to be a dad!"

"Are you sure you can handle it, Jeff?" his wife giggled. "Because I can't pick you up off the floor in my . . . delicate condition!" Then she started giggling. "Rum . . . take your kids . . . before I drop them!"

Rumple gently took both Dickon and Bella from her.

Alice doubled over laughing.

Jeff glowered at both of them for a few moments. "Aww, hells! Come on, guys . . . it's not that funny."

"You're right," Rumple smirked. "It's not funny, Jeff. It's _hysterical_!" He chuckled uncontrollably. "I can't wait to tell Belle! And what a story this will make . . . when I tell your kid about it. Your dad was so . . . shocked when your mom told him she was having you that he . . . _fainted dead away in a chair!_"

"Some friend you are!" Jefferson glared at the snickering sorcerer. "I'll bet when Milah told you she was having Bae _you_ were surprised."

"Surprised, yes. Passed out, no."

"I wasn't . . . passed out . . . . I was just . . . closing my eyes and trying to . . . process it," Jeff protested.

"Jeff, love, don't try to kid yourself," Alice said. "You were out like a light! Rum had to conjure a rain cloud before you woke up!"

Jefferson threw up his hands. "Okay! Okay! But you sprang it on me! Like out of the blue." He came and hugged her. "But I really _am_ happy, honey. I'm just a bit shocked that it happened so quickly. I didn't expect that. But I'm glad, Alice. I wonder what it will be?"

"Do you have a preference?"

"Um . . . no, not really. Of course I'd love a son to teach things too, but a little girl like Clary would be great too. Whatever the gods see fit to send us is fine . . . as long as the baby and you are healthy. That's all I really care about."

Then he kissed her, long and deeply.

"We'll just leave you two alone," Rumple said. "Just don't kiss him too long, Alice . . . he might pass out from lack of air!"

Jefferson flipped his friend a rude gesture and Rumple chuckled and left the room, heading downstairs to share Jeff's reaction with Belle, the twins held securely in his arms.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple put Bella and Dickon in their infant rockers when Belle said, "Oh, Rum, I'm so excited! Alice is expecting and now the twins will have a playmate . . . like a cousin!"

"That's wonderful, dearie. But just wait until you hear what happened when Alice told Jeff her news."

"How did he take it? Was he like jumping up and down?" Belle asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Umm . . . he . . . fainted! Dead away!"

"No! He _didn't!_"

"Oh for sure he did! Saw it with my own two eyes. I had to revive him with magic." Rumple reported gleefully.

"Oh, my goodness! I've heard of fathers passing out when their wives delivered kids, but . . . I don't think I've ever heard that!" Belle said, her blue eyes twinkling. Then she burst out laughing.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Of course, that story ended up being overheard by Bae, Myrnin, and Clary since they had been coming in the back door when Rumple was telling Belle. And Jeff endured some ribbing from his friend's children, but he took it in stride, as he really had no choice.

Rennie felt a little envious of Alice for a little bit after she heard the news. She went out and sat in the courtyard on the bench in the rose arbor after supper was over, dreaming of the day when she could hold a small one of her own in her arms, or share the same news with Bae, who definitely wouldn't faint over it. She gazed out across the arbor, which was now bursting into bloom again after the long winter, and sighed in longing.

"Hey, Ren. Penny for your thoughts," Bae said, slipping up behind her and draping his arms over her shoulders and pulling her against his chest.

Rennie leaned her head against him and said, "They're not worth that much, Bae. I'm just . . .being kind of petty, I guess."

"Because you want a baby too?" Bae guessed.

Rennie nodded. He knew her too well. "I know I can wait, that we have years together to have children after we're married. And I am glad for Aunt Alice and Uncle Jeff, but . . . sometimes I look at Dickon and Bella and I just want one of our own so bad, Bae!"

Bae moved then, and straddled the bench next to her so he could hold her on his lap. "Aww, Ren! You know I want kids too . . . I just want to give them a home and stuff too. And right now I can't . . . if I could I'd marry you tomorrow." He kissed the top of her head. "But I'll tell you a secret. Alice offered me a place in her company. One of her mercs is leaving, he got hurt really bad in the battle for the castle and he can't soldier anymore. So she offered me his place. You're the first one I've told."

Rennie brightened then. "That's fantastic, Bae! And you're going to take it, right?"

"I'd like to. Alice said that for the foreseeable future she won't be taking any travelling contracts because of the baby. So the company will be based right here at the castle, Papa told her about the barracks that were boarded up a long time ago, when we first came here. I didn't even know it existed, he hid it with magic. But it does, and once he removes the spell, the company can move in there. And that means I can stay here and drill and whatever and not have to leave you."

Rennie turned about and hugged him. "That's so wonderful, Bae! And maybe we could . . . pick out some land for a little cottage too?"

"Sure we can. Papa's already said he's spoken to the spirits about that twenty-five acres just to the west of the wheat field, and they said we could build there and they'd protect us the same way they do the rest of our land," Bae told her, hugging her tightly.

"Then you don't mind that we'll be . . . right next door to our parents?"

"Nope. I love my family, Ren, and there's nowhere I'd rather be than with them. I don't need to move across the kingdom just to prove I'm grown up now. This is my home, and if something should happen to me—gods forbid—you'll have your family nearby to help you."

She smiled up into his face and whispered, "I'm so lucky you're my fiancé, Baelfire Gold. Any other man would insist I pack up and leave and move far away, it's what's expected of a good wife."

"Now, when did you ever know me to do what's expected of me, Serenity?" he queried.

"Almost never," she admitted.

"Papa taught me to make up my own mind and decide what's best for me, and to hell with tradition. And what's best for me is to stay close by my family. Oh, I might travel a bit with the Card Captors if I have to, but otherwise I'll be home every night for supper with you and whatever children we have, just like Papa is. If that's old fashioned, so be it."

"I love you _because_ you're old fashioned, Bae. Because you put your family first and then your career, when usually it's the other way around," Rennie said.

"I can have a good career as soldier right here, Ren. And there's no one in my life more important than you," he told her earnestly.

Rennie looked into his deep brown eyes, so sincere and filled with love for her, and she fell in love with him all over again. "Gods, Bae! I couldn't ask for more. I love you so much!"

He kissed her then, one long sweet kiss, filled with all the passion and promise he possessed. "And I love you, Ren. We can have a dozen kids if you want . . . . after we build a house, okay?"

"All right. I'll practice being patient . . . and learning all I can from Mom about running a house and being an herbalist too. And in the meantime, I'll dream about dozens of little Baes running about causing mischief."

He laughed. "And little Rennies too! Because I want at least one girl like her mom."

"I thought all men wanted sons to carry on their name."

Bae shrugged. "Some do. But I've always been partial to girls. I won't mind a boy or two though."

"We could end up with seven daughters," Rennie said.

"That's fine with me," Bae replied. "I'm not some stupid prig like Clary's real dad, who gave away his own kin just because she was female. I'll love any children we have, Ren, and if they're all girls I could care less."

"I will too," she murmured, and thanked the gods for sending her a man like Bae, who was one of a kind, and who loved her the same way she loved him, with everything in him. Then she leaned against him and closed her eyes, dreaming of their life together with their hopefully many children.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Down in the yard, Rafe was trying to teach Elaina how to shoot a bow, upon her request. "I think you do fine bashing people upside the head with a skillet, Elaina, but if you want to learn how to shoot, I'll teach you."

He had one arm about her slender waist, and the other hand was helping her draw Snow's bow, which was more suited to a woman's strength than his own. "Like this, little falcon," he told her, his dark eyes alight with passion—both for her and archery. He showed her how to hold the arrow steady on the string. "Now when you're ready . . . release!"

Elaina concentrated, focusing on the target, or trying to. But it was hard when Rafe was holding her, and whispering right into her ear with his kissable mouth. She released the arrow . . .

. . . and saw it skitter off past the target.

"Hells!" she swore. "I think you're distracting me, Rafe."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, Miss Independent Gold. See if you can do it without my help." He removed his arms from her waist and stepped back.

Elaina pulled another arrow from her quiver and set it to the string. She drew the bow back slowly, like Rafe had shown her. When it was pulled back as far as she could, she sighted down the shaft and "called" the target to her.

When she saw nothing but the black circle of the bullseye in her mind, she released the arrow.

It flew through the air . . . and almost struck the center.

"I did it!" Elaina cried.

"Nice one!" Rafe cheered. "Now do it again."

She did as he ordered, only this time the arrow landed a bit further out, but still in the target. Then she looked at her boyfriend. "Let's see how you do when I'm distracting you, sharpeyes."

He grinned at her. "You think you can make me miss?"

She put her arms about his waist and leaned down by his ear. "Can you make the shot when you must, my brilliant archer?"

He suddenly quivered in longing. Then he said, "Let's find out." He strung his bow and put an arrow to it and drew in one swift motion.

Elaina's breath tickled his ear and made him hot. He breathed in and out sharply, focusing despite wanting to drop his bow and kiss her senseless. Then he shot.

Just as Elaina blew in his ear.

His arm jerked a little in shock.

And his arrow landed in the second ring, missing the bullseye by a scant handsbreadth.

"Minx! You did that on purpose!"

"You said I should be a distraction," Elaina said.

"Forget about it," Rafe sighed. "I ought to know better. You distract me just by smiling at me sometimes."

"I do? How about when I kiss you?" she teased.

"Nothing compares to that. Not even archery," he admitted. Then, as if to prove his point, he kissed her breathless.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle and Rumple were busy that evening after Alice's announcement giving the twins a bath in the small towel-lined tin tub in their bedroom. Rumple had heated the water with his magic to just the right temperature and placed a very large soft sea sponge inside it to put the babies on while he and Belle each took a twin and washed and shampooed their hair with a mild soap Belle had concocted that smelled like roses and vanilla and didn't sting at all if one of the other baby happened to get some in their eyes—or their parent's, since both babies had discovered the joys of splashing.

And blowing raspberries.

All four of them had fun playing in the warm water, and Rumple made bubbles that glittered for the twins to pop, while Belle sang silly songs and flicked soap suds on her husband and encouraged Bella to splash her papa, which she did so enthusiastically that they almost had a flood right there on the floor in the bathroom.

"Whoops! I think we got a little carried away, sweetie!" laughed her mother. Bella squealed and clapped her hands.

"See, Arabella, that's what happens when you plot rebellion against the lord and master of this castle," Rumple chuckled, wiping soap suds and water off his face. "Right, Dickon? Now, splash Mama!" He encouraged his son, who giggled and splashed Belle and his twin so hard Belle got soaked.

"Rum! Now look at what you did!" Belle cried, pretending to be angry.

"_You_ started it. All's fair in love and war, dearie!"

Belle dried her face off with a towel and stuck her tongue out at him. "We won't mention what happens when the lord and master of this castle ticks off his lady and he ends up sleeping on the bedroom floor, right, Bella?"

"Belle! You wouldn't dare!"

"Like you said, dearie. All's fair in love and war," she smirked. Then she looked down at her tunic, which was sopping wet and started laughing. "We must look like refugees!"

"No. The refuges look better," her husband replied, also laughing. "I think bathtime's over for tonight."

"Because now we have a huge mess to clean up," Belle said ruefully.

Rumple clapped his hands. "What mess is that, dearie?"

Belle looked around and saw that the bathroom, which had looked like an underwater version of the Ogre Wars a moment before, was now perfectly clean. "I love you, Rum."

"So . . . does that mean the lady won't make her lord and master sleep on the floor?" he asked mischievously.

"The lord and master is sleeping right where he belongs," Belle grinned. "Which is right next to his lady."

Then they carefully dried the twins off and rubbed lotion on them and dressed them in cozy sleepers for the night.

As Belle nursed the babies for the last time before putting them to bed, Rumple got changed into his night attire, and as he did so heard the sound of two little pairs of feet running down the hall. "Now what is going on?" he muttered.

"Maybe you'd better see," his wife said.

Rumple went out in the hall just in time to see Phillip and Pinocchio, who was staying over, trying to sneak down the stairs. "Ahem!" He cleared his throat. "What are you two doing?"

Phillip and Pinocchio froze. Then Phillip said gamely, "Umm . . . we're going to . . . get a drink of water, Papa."

"You mean milk," Pinocchio corrected. "So we can eat it with the piece of cake . . ."

Phillip poked him. "Pinocchio! That was supposed to be a secret!"

"Oops! I forgot. But Phil, he would've found out anyway."

"How?"

"Because he can read minds! Like all the powerful sorcerers!"

_Damn! That's a new one on me!_ Rumple thought, amused. It seemed that people were forever giving him magical powers that were ridiculously impossible, although he wouldn't have minded being able to read minds on occasion. "That's right. Now, I believe you two already had dessert before, so why did you think you could try and get more without asking?"

"Uh, because of the deal we made with Clary and Junie, Papa," Phillip told him.

"What deal's that?"

"The one where Pinocchio and I agreed we'd play house and be the husbands so they could have doll babies and then they'd give us their dessert."

"Yeah, they needed us because you have to get married before the _bambinos_ come, my papa says so, and I married June, but then I got stuck getting her everything because she couldn't walk cause her feet were tired or something, and she said husbands are supposed to take care of their wives when they're having kids."

"Yeah, and they made us run all over the playroom and get them stuff, like blankets, and tea, and we got tired and wanted something to eat so we left after the kids got born," Phillip added.

"It was too much work!" Pinocchio agreed. "_Mama Mia,_ I ain't never getting married, Master Gold!"

Rumple's lips quivered. "I see. But it's almost bedtime for you two boys, so perhaps you can wait till tomorrow to have more dessert, hmm?"

"Aww, but Papa!" Phillip groaned. "We had a deal!"

"And you still do. You never asked when you could have their dessert, did you?"

"Umm . . . no."

"So, tomorrow Snow's making Miss Bea's chocolate cake and you can have two pieces of that."

"Is that the one Bae and Jim ate the whole thing of when they were kids?" Phillip asked.

"That's the one," Rumple agreed, his mouth twitching further.

"Okay. We can wait."

"We can?" Pinocchio asked, dismayed.

"Uh huh. Bae says that cake's so good Regina would sell her soul to get some. And that's like a miracle, since she don't have one!"

"And we get two pieces of it?"

"You do. Now isn't that worth waiting for?" Rumple queried.

"Sure is!" Pinocchio nodded.

"But I'm still thirsty, Papa."

"And you can get a cup of water right here," Rumple reminded him, familiar with that tactic. "So get one drink and then it's off to bed with you."

Phillip sighed. "Yes, Papa," then he pulled Pinocchio along with him and went into the red bathroom next door. "You're lucky your papa can't read minds," he said to his friend. "Because you can't get away with anything!"

Rumple covered his mouth with a hand, then watched as the two boys walked down the hall to Phillip's room afterwards. He then checked the playroom to see if Clary and June were still awake, but it was dark and the girls were in bed.

When he returned to his room, Belle looked up and said, "Was there a problem, Rum?"

"No. I just had to clear up a technicality on a deal Phillip and Pinocchio made with Clary and June." He told her about it, then added, "Oh, and now I can read minds, according to Pinocchio."

"Read minds?" Belle giggled.

"All the great sorcerers can," he replied.

"Guess I better watch out then," his wife said.

"Oh? Do you have secrets from me?"

"No . . . but I have some pretty wicked fantasies, dearie!"

"If they're anything like mine, I don't need to read your mind to know about them," he said, and winked at her.

"But can you make them come true?"

"I can do anything, dearie. I'm the Gold sorcerer," he answered, then he fell on the bed, laughing.


	66. A Golden Event

**66**

**A Golden Event**

_The Enchanted Forest_

_Regina's palace:_

The Queen of the Enchanted Forest paced up and down before her magic mirror, heavily veiled from forehead to chin, all save her eyes, which were a glittering dark crimson, like the last drops of the heart's blood. Since her defeat at the hands of Rumplestiltskin and his allies, Regina had crawled back into her palace to lick her wounds and plot revenge against the Gold sorcerer and his family. It was a revenge that involved the murder of all he held dear, and one that would not be fulfilled anytime soon, considering Regina had barely any magic left to command, and was uglier than a troll besides.

During the months that had followed the shattering of her offensive and subsequent withdrawal of her army, Regina had done her best to find a counter to the spells Rumple had worked upon her. But all of her books of dark magic were useless, none of them had ever dealt with a foe like the Gold sorcerer before. There were spells to compel and enchant, spells to wither and summon the dead, spells to rip beating hearts from a victim's chest, spells to rot and destroy living flesh, and all manner of spells to bring harm and curse someone to the ninth generation. But nowhere in all of those books were spells to reverse what Rumplestiltskin had made her—a magicless freak of nature that not even her mother could have recognized, a beast that would have frightened an ogre and disgusted a dragon.

In her despair and fury, she had gone and broken every mirror in her palace—all save one. That one was the first mirror she had acquired, that contained the living spirit of a djinn, and that she saved, since it could not be destroyed by any but magical means, and she lacked the power to light a candle nowadays. Day after day, she asked the mirror the same question, _Who is the fairest one of all?_ And day after day the mirror responded with _Snow White is the fairest._ That day she threw a shoe at the mirror and shouted, _How can I return to being the fairest in the land?_ The mirror had replied, _You cannot. For none shall call you fair when they see you for what you are._

She had thrown every object she could get her hands on at the mirror —a futile exercise, since when she was done, the objects lay tossed and broken all over and the mirror remained its shiny pristine self. Then she had pounded upon the glass and screamed until her voice was hoarse, swearing terrible invectives upon the Golds.

In her impotent fury, she inadvertently called upon a being she had nearly forgotten about . . . her lost fairy godmother, once known as Majora, when she had still been a light fairy, before she had succumbed to the lure of power and the dark path, studying with the Nightlords until she became as corrupt as they, and changed her name to Maleficent some twenty-five years before, when Regina was still a child under the rule of her mother, Cora.

Maleficent was now a dark fae, her soul given over to the dark path, and her powers twisted until they no longer resembled anything of the light. Still, the vows she had spoken over Regina's cradle long ago bound her still, and she came to the call of her godchild. She appeared in Regina's room in a puff of sulfuric smoke, green and black clouds that could have slain an ordinary mortal on the spot had she chose.

"You called, child?" the fairy asked, her voice cold and hard as winter frost. She appeared as a tall woman dressed in billowing black and violet robes, her hair darker than a starless night, her wings transformed from shimmering bright things into leathery wrinkled monstrous appendages, rather like a demon's. Horns grew out of her head, a hallmark of those who had travelled the hells, and her eyes bore more resemblance to the fiends of the pits than her fairy kin.

Regina spun about, her clawlike hands curling in a defensive gesture, despite the fact that she could not summon enough power to light a candle. Her crimson eyes widened in shock as she recognized the being known as Maleficent, whom she had not seen in over ten years, since she had performed the ritual murder of her father in order to be admitted into the highest order of necromancy. Maleficent had appeared to her then to congratulate her and praise her dedication to the black arts. Then she had given Regina the wand she had used in the battle for the Dark Castle, and vanished into the mists.

"Maleficent!" she gasped.

The dark fairy smiled. "Hello, Regina. Long time no see, child. What _have_ you gotten yourself into now?"

Regina's hands clenched into fists, her clawed nails digging into her monstrous pebbled flesh. "Don't mock me, Maleficent!" she snarled. "This . . . is because of that miserable warlock the Gold sorcerer!"

Maleficent looked startled. "You have challenged Rumplestiltskin? Child, did I not warn you against it? Powerful though you might be, you are not of his class. Few there are in all the realms who can match him. Even I would hesitate to challenge one such as he, and I have more spells and power at my disposal."

"I don't need lectures, Maleficent!" Regina growled. "I need a way to break this curse upon me! I need to revenge myself upon him and his!"

Maleficent shook her head in disappointment. "What he has done to you is no curse, child, not in the sense you mean. And it was done by the strictures of a _duel magicka, _and so is almost impossible to break."

"Then you're unable to help me? Why did you come then if you're useless?"

"I came because I am bound to aid you, godchild. And while I cannot do what you wish, I can aid you in other ways, Regina. There is more than one way to make that Gold bastard pay for leveling his justice upon you."

"What way, godmother?"

Maleficent smiled, a terrible grin of depravity and madness, such as a corpse might have worn. "Listen, child, and I shall tell you . . ."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_The Dark Castle nursery_

_Three days later:_

Clary Gold plaited strands of fine silver unicorn hair as Sweetheart lay down beside the cradle of golden rowan wood where her new twin siblings napped. Her older sisters and her parents were preparing for the big event that was going to happen tomorrow—the twins' christening. Mama had explained to Clary what a christening was—a special party where they would bring the twins to the temple of the gods, the Blessed Mother Gaia and her Sky Consort husband, and there ask for the blessing of the deities upon them, and dedicate them to the ways of truth and light. In addition to that, they would name two sets of godparents, one set was secular, and would be Uncle Jeff and Aunt Alice, the other was magical, and would be a fairy godmother, chosen from among the fairies themselves. Both would pledge themselves to guard the twins as they grew.

To have a fairy godmother was a great honor, Belle had told her, since most people did not, indeed the only ones able to afford such a luxury were royalty, and even they had to pay a steep price to get one to agree to act as guardian. She had not had one, as her papa could not afford it, even though he was king of Avonlea. Snow had one once, but Regina had killed her, though Snow only realized this later, since the fairy did not come to her aid when Regina threatened her life. Which meant the godmother was dead, since only death could prevent a godmother from fulfilling her vow to her godchild.

But Papa had made a deal with the fairies, and so one of them would become a godmother to the twins, the only Gold children to ever have one.

Clary knew that the twins would need one, without knowing quite how she knew it. Lately she had been having strange occurrences like that, knowing things without knowing exactly how she knew them for truth. Of course, being the second youngest in a family of twenty-two meant most things she said weren't taken seriously. Except perhaps by her papa, who always listened to her, and so did her mama, and though her eldest brother Bae might laugh at her, he always defended her from the teasing of her somewhat older brothers.

The christening was also a time for the twins to be seen by friends and neighbors and their birth celebrated by giving them gifts of different kinds. Papa had told her she could give little Dickon and Bella a gift too, and Clary had worked hard learning how to braid Sweetheart's hair into two small bracelets from Rennie, who knew how to make friendship bracelets from yarn scraps. The two bracelets were in a small wooden box in her dresser drawer, she would bring them tomorrow to the temple and present them to her siblings when Alwin, the Mother's priestess, called her name.

Clary was brushing Sweetie with a special brush Belle had bought her, one that was soft and didn't tangle the ultra silky unicorn hair like harder brushes did. Clary never wanted to hurt the little unicorn, who was growing so quickly that she was now bigger than Clary, and her small stub of a horn was nearly three inches long and sparkled iridescently. Sometimes when Clary touched Sweetie, her horn glowed, though no one knew why it did that. Clary only knew that she felt peaceful and happy when she petted the unicorn, and when the small horn glowed, she felt as if the sun was warming her.

Sweetie was a good-natured creature, and got along well with everyone, but there was no denying that she had a special bond with Clary, and could often be found in the little girl's room, or nearby, and she sometimes laid her head in Clary's lap of an evening and slept while Clary stroked her. She had outgrown the small box Bae had made for her when she first arrived at the castle, and occasionally slept in the barn next to Rogue, but she preferred to be inside the castle, and slept most nights at the foot of Clary's bed on a small rug.

Clary was careful to save the loose gold and white hair that got caught in the brush, since her papa used it for making his healing potions. She put it in the pocket of her white pinafore, and resumed braiding the gold mane with blue and pink thread gotten from her father's work basket. She didn't think he'd mind her borrowing some to make Sweetie look pretty for the christening, since the unicorn was going to pull a small cart with Belle and the twins inside it up the aisle of the temple.

The unicorn lay quietly while Clary twined the yarn through her silken mane, her crystalline blue eyes slightly sleepy as she put her head on the girl's lap. Her flanks heaved slightly as she sighed.

"You're gonna look really pretty, Sweetie," Clary told the white and gold unicorn. "Pretty as a May rose, like Mama always says."

As she tied off the last thread, she heard soft footsteps and then a familiar voice say, "What are you doing, snippet?"

Clary looked up to see her father standing there, looking down at her curiously. "Papa, I'm fixing Sweetie's mane for the christening tomorrow."

Rumple knelt down on his good leg and peered more closely at Clary's handiwork. "You've done an excellent job, Clary."

"I've been practicing on my dolls," she informed him. "Elaina says that's the best way to learn how to braid."

"And Elaina would know, since she's a champion hairdresser," Rumple said, reaching out and ruffling Clary's red-gold hair, which fell in wavy curls down her back. "Maybe she can braid your hair tomorrow, huh?"

Clary nodded. "Or you can do it, Papa."

Rumple's eyes widened. "You'd rather me than Elaina? But she's much better than I am."

"I like it when you brush my hair," his daughter informed him. "You don't pull the tangles out like she does."

"I learned long ago to untangle thread patiently, pulling only makes it more snarled," her spinner father said, gently running his fingers through her springy curls. "It's the same with hair."

"See? You know more than she does," Clary declared. Then she reached into her pocket and handed him the large ball of unicorn hair. "Here, Papa. Some more hair for your potions."

"Thank you, sweetling." Rumple took the hair and put it in his own pocket. Unicorn hair was a prime ingredient for the antidote he made that could cure most poisons, including the deadly green spider venom the night elves used that had wreaked such havoc on him and Myrnin.

He gently scratched the sleeping Sweetheart about her horn, and the unicorn whinnied sleepily and leaned into his touch, her horn glowing a soft blue.

"Papa, why's her horn glow like that sometimes when you touch her?"

"Uh, I think it may have something to do with my magic reacting to hers," Rumple speculated.

"But sometimes it glows when I pet her and I don't have magic," Clary pointed out.

"Actually, you _may_ have magic when you're older, Clary," he corrected. Since she was a seventh daughter, the probability of her inheriting the Gift was very likely.

"Like you?"

"Not exactly. I think you might have a Healing Gift, like your mom. As well as a Gift of Sight, like some of the temple priestesses. Would you like that?"

Clary nodded. "Yes! Then I can help make people well, like Mama does."

"I'll know for sure when you're older," her father said, though he had a strong suspicion that Sweetie knew that Clary would be a great Healing mage before any of them. A unicorn was one of the sacred magical beasts and especially sensitive to magical auras. Clary's fascination with healing and her odd flashes of intuition all pointed towards a strong Talent, one that would have to be nurtured carefully once it did awaken. There hadn't been a great Healing mage in the realms since the time of Aesclepius, and Rumple knew it was because most Healing mages tended to overspend themselves on patients and die as a result. Except he would make sure Clary knew the limits of her powers and that would never happen.

Suddenly, Sweetie nickered and rose to her feet, shaking her head a little and setting the braids in her mane to dancing.

"I think she wants to go out, Papa," Clary said, also getting to her feet. "C'mon, Sweetie! Let's go play outside." She handed Rumple the unicorn's brush and followed the well-mannered animal as she trotted down the stairs and out the back door, chattering to her about princesses and rescuing them from wicked witches.

Rumple watched her go, a smile on his face, and thought sadly at how quickly his former baby was growing up. Soon she wouldn't even want to sit on his lap any more, and before he knew it, she'd be putting her hair up and giggling about boys. Well, maybe not that soon, he amended, then he glanced at the cradle, where his twins slept and thought, these two would keep him busy for a long time yet, as would Alice and Jeff's baby when it was born. _So many blessings, Rum. Don't forget to count them,_ he reminded himself, repeating the words Mary Hatter had told him long ago, after Bae had been born and Milah wasn't quite the shrew she became later.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Down in the kitchen, Belle, Ivy, and Myrnin were baking half-moon sugar cookies with vanilla icing and sprinkles for the christening feast. They needed at least two pairs of hands to make because one person had to bake the cookies and the other two dip them in icing and then sprinkle them before the icing set. These cookies were almost like eating cake, for they were of a cake-like consistency, the dough was mildly sweet until you added the icing and sprinkles, and then it tasted like the best birthday cake ever.

Myrnin slyly kept sneaking cookies until Ivy happened to catch him eating one as she put a batch out to cool. "Myrnin! If you keep eating them we won't have any for the company," she half-scolded, though she thought he looked adorable with half a cookie stuffed in his mouth.

"They won't miss one or two," he said, swallowing it.

Just then Rumple came by and said, "Are those cookies done yet? I could smell them all the way upstairs," and gleefully summoned two of them and ate one.

"Papa! My cookies!" Ivy yelped in dismay.

"Oh, don't fuss so, my clever girl!" Rumple soothed. "There!" He waved his hand and six duplicate cookies appeared on the table. "Now no one will starve. As if that's possible with the way you cook."

Ivy went and hugged him. "Sorry I'm being such a fussfeathers, but you know how I get the night before a big dinner."

Belle looked up from where she was sprinkling iced cookies and said, "Ivy, I told you before, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone loves your cooking and there probably won't be many leftovers because people will fight over them. Right, Rum?"

"You're worried people won't like your cooking?" he said, astonished. "Girl, you're the best cook in seven kingdoms. King Jason himself would pay me hundreds of gold pieces to have you cook in the royal kitchens, don't you know that? And if anyone turns up his nose at what you've done, well, then I can always serve them a plate of pig trotters and lamb fries."

Myrnin frowned. "What are those?"

Rumple slanted him a glance. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"They're pickled pig's feet and fried bull's testicles."

Myrnin looked faintly green. "And people actually . . . _eat_ that? Rum, that's disgusting!"

"In some kingdoms they're considered a delicacy. Me, I'd only eat them if I was starving," the sorcerer replied.

"I don't think I could do that even then," the half-elf shuddered. "Ugh! That's just nasty! Ivy, if anyone complains, I'll turn them into a goat. Then they can eat garbage and see how that tastes."

Ivy laughed. "And it'd serve them right. I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

"Only a little," her father said, kissing the top of her head, as he used to do when she was small. Then he let her go.

Ivy turned around just in time to see her boyfriend sneak another cookie off the table. "Myrnin, you wretch!" she cried, and went to swat him on the behind with her spatula.

Smirking, the half-elf sorcerer dodged her tap and chuckled. "Hey! It's only one cookie!"

"And what about the one before that? And the one before that, huh? How many's that?" she demanded, chasing him around the table.

"Who's counting?" he grinned. "You can always make more," he reminded her, dodging her second swat. Then he spun around gracefully and caught her in his arms, banishing her spatula and saying, "I'm fourteen, not four, now quit trying to spank me."

"Sometimes you act like you're four," she reproved.

"Like when I do this?" he queried mischievously, and kissed her lightly.

Ivy blushed and said, "Myrnin, my parents!"

He glanced over his shoulder at Belle, who was smiling at Rumple, and said, "I don't think they mind, _a'liri_."

"If I did, you'd be a rug by now and I'd be beating you," Rumple said.

"In that case . . ." Ivy kissed him back, then said, "Now you get to help me make more cookies, my lord prince!"

"As you wish," Myrnin grinned, and he sketched her a courtly bow before he summoned an apron to him and wiped his hands on a dishcloth.

As he did so, he heard Ivy chuckle, and looked up to see Belle kissing his mentor . . . and leaving icing handprints all over his good tunic.

"See? That's what I want us to be like when we grow old," Myrnin said impudently.

"Old? Watch your mouth, boy!" Rumple mock-scolded once he could speak again.

"Older," his apprentice amended, his hazel eyes dancing. "And I'll love you as much then as I do now," he said to Ivy. "Just like that."

Ivy smiled sweetly at him. "I look forward to it." Then she flicked her dishcloth at him.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

The morning of the christening dawned sunny and cloudless, a perfect May day. Alice helped Belle dress the twins in their finery, satin and lace gowns with matching caps and booties, colored a rich ivory, with blue ribbons on Dickon's and pink on Bella's.

Belle opened the solstice gifts from Santa for the twins that morning, and found two beautiful gold and silver rattles inside the boxes, one with pink sapphires and one with blue ones, and a gold R for Dickon on his and a gold A for Bella on hers. "He did know!" Belle exclaimed upon seeing them.

"Know what?" asked Alice, puzzled.

"What the twins were before they were born," Belle explained how Santa had left the twins a present before they were born and instructions not to open it until after they arrived.

Alice just smiled. "Well, of course he'd know, Belle. He's the patron of children." She gave her goddaughter the rattle and Bella promptly sucked on it, as did Dickon when Belle gave him his.

The rest of the children, under Rumple's supervision, got dressed in their feast day clothing, and afterwards Elaina fixed everyone's hair, though Jack's was its usual crazy self, and Rumple borrowed a pair of scissors and trimmed it until it was manageable.

In about two hours, everyone was ready, and Sweetie was hitched to a new little white and gold trap, decorated with silver, white, pink, and gold ribbons and roses, which Belle, Rumple, and the twins rode in. The rest of the children took the rented coaches down to Valley Way, or rode the horses, though Kristen shifted into her hawk form and flew down, having finally mastered landing without falling.

Myrnin and Puck were mounted on their pegasi, and preparing to take off when a peregrine falcon winged its way down from above.

"Myrnin, a messenger," Puck pointed out.

Myrnin held out a fist and the falcon alighted on it, then gave him the message in its talons. "Thank you, swift one," he told the bird in elven, and summoned a scrap of meat to feed it as a reward before it flew off.

"A falcon!" exclaimed Nick. "What's it doing here?"

Myrnin looked at the small boy and said, "My people use falcons as messengers." He opened up the scroll and read what was written there in elven script. "My father sends his regrets, Rum, but he says he cannot come because some of the _dwarrow_ are stirring again in the northern part of the wood. But he wishes me to come to the Aspen Manse and pick up the gifts he has for the twins."

"That's too bad," said the sorcerer. "Go on, lad. It's not good to keep a king waiting, even if you are his son."

"Perhaps especially then," Myrnin chuckled. "I'll be back as soon as I can. See you at the temple!" He waved once before he tapped Stormrider with his heels. "Up, Storm! Back to Gliringlass, gallant one!"

The pegasus snorted and leaped into the air, and with three beats of his wings had carried Myrnin over the castle and into the Mystic Wood towards his former home, the Heart of the Wood.

"I hope he makes it back in time," Belle said worriedly.

"I'm sure he will, dearie," Rumple said. "Remember, he can transport himself there if need be."

Then he clucked to Sweetie and the unicorn began to pull them down the road towards Valley Way.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When the Gold family arrived at the temple of the Mother, which was situated in the middle of a grove of aspens set back from the main village proper on a small hill, its pristine marble walls portraying serenity and peace, they found the entrance and walkways already decorated for the event with a profusion of flowers, including roses.

Rumple halted the small trap and got out, for he, along with Jeff and Alice, would wait at the altar along with the priestess performing the ceremony—in this case High Priestess Alwin—and Belle would process in along with the twins drawn by Sweetie in the trap.

As soon as Alice, Jeff, and Rumple went inside, Bae and Rennie made everyone else line up and walk in, they took up the far right side and sat on the benches closest to the altar and the small basin of sacred spring water.

The villagers from Valley Way and the Card Captors were already there, standing on the left hand side of the altar. Everyone was free to come and see the dedication, though only those who had been invited specifically brought gifts, such as the Shepherds and the Millers.

Alwin, the Mother's priestess, stood upon the dais, dressed in the familiar green and white of her order, wearing a long green outer robe over a white gown belted with a simple twined leather belt and leather sandals. Her long blond hair was left to flow down her back and she wore a wreath of May flowers on her head. She was about forty-five, with sparkling hazel eyes and a mobile mouth.

"Welcome, Archmagus Gold, to my temple," she greeted Rumple. "Please stand here, to the left of the altar," she directed. "Godparents, to the right."

The three separated, going to their assigned places.

Suddenly there was a glittering of fairy dust and Nova appeared beside Jeff and Alice.

Jeff stared at the petite fairy and said, "You're the fairy godmother, right?"

"I am. Blue picked me," Nova said, smiling. "And it's an honor to serve the Gold sorcerer and his family."

"We're honored to have you," said Rumple.

More people entered the temple, like Archie, Dirk and his son Rich, Geppetto and Pinocchio, and Mary Poppins. Soon the temple was almost overflowing with people.

Finally, Alwin clapped her hands and said, "Please be seated. We are about to start." Then she gestured for the small band to start playing.

As the first notes of the hymn of praise to the Mother wafted through the air, Belle gently tapped Sweetheart with the reins and the unicorn pranced proudly down the walk and into the temple.

Everyone oohed and aahed at the sight of the unicorn, the Mother's most sacred animal, pulling Belle and the twins towards the altar. Belle held the twins in each arm, and smiled as they walked down the aisle. Sweetie walked slowly and carefully, her head high, the braids Clary had worked so hard on looking striking against her pale coat. Her horn was luminous, seeming to reflect all the sunlight coming in from the skylight.

When they reached the altar, Sweetheart halted automatically before it, tossing her head a bit.

Alwin nodded and said, "Welcome to the Mother's House, Belle Gold and your children, Richard and Arabella." She curtsied to Sweetheart then, who bowed in return.

"Thank you, Priestess Alwin," Belle said, and Rumple took Dickon from her and helped her out of the trap.

Once Belle and the babies were out, Sweetheart calmly trotted over to where the Gold children were sitting, and Bae unhitched her and put the trap off to the side and Sweetheart lay down on the floor in front of the bench.

Belle moved to stand with Bella next to Rumple and Dickon, and Alwin turned to face the congregation, saying quietly yet clearly, "I welcome you all here on this auspicious day, to bear witness to the dedication of two young ones to the glory and honor of Gaia, She who is Our Mother, Goddess of all the Earth and Life, and her Consort, Sky Father, Ruler of Air and Heaven above."

There followed a short prayer, asking the god and goddess to bless this day and the children who had yet to know them as their parents did.

The ceremony that followed was a swift one, and Alwin then asked the parents to come forward with their children, and asked them three questions.

"Do you, Rumplestiltskin and Belle, dedicate your children to Gaia and Her Consort, from this day forward?"

"We do."

"Do you, Rumplestiltskin and Belle, reject the lies and temptations of the dark gods, in the name of the Mother, and so do so for your children, Richard and Arabella?"

"We do."

"Finally, do you, Rumplestiltskin and Belle, accept the teachings of the Mother and Her Consort, to guide your children, Richard and Arabella, in peace, love, and justice, goodness, and mercy, for all the days of their lives?"

"We do."

Alwin now turned to Jeff, Alice, and Nova.

"In the event that Rumplestiltskin and Belle are unable to guide their children in the ways of the Mother, do you, Jefferson and Alice Hatter, agree to stand as godparents in their stead?"

"We do," they both answered.

"Do you, Nova of the light fae, also agree to stand as these children's guardian, against all things magical, for all the days of their lives?"

"I do," Nova replied. "By the magic inherent within me, I so vow to be their protector unto death."

"Bring the children to me," Alwin said, and Belle came forward with Bella, and handed her to Alwin.

Alwin smiled at her and said, "Child of light, I bless and baptize thee in the name of the Holy Mother and Her Consort, Father Sky. With this water, you are joined in a sacred trust. May you know peace." She gently poured the warmed water on Arabella's forehead three times.

Bella giggled.

Alwin bent and kissed her forehead. "You are now dedicated, Mistress Arabella Alice Gold." Then she handed Bella to Alice.

She took Dickon from Rumple next, and performed the same ceremony, then once he had been blessed also, handed him to Jefferson.

"The blessings of the Mother and Father be upon all here!" Alwin said loudly. She gestured to two pine cradles that suddenly appeared at the foot of the altar. "Please place the babies there." After Jeff and Alice did so, she said, "And now, to show your fellowship and love towards Richard and Arabella, you may come and present to them a gift. When I call your name, come forward and hand the gift to either godparent and give the twins the kiss of peace. First we shall start with family." She pulled a list from her pocket, unrolled it, and said, "Baelfire Gold, come forward."

Bae came up to the altar and gave Jeff the bag with the set of wooden blocks he had carved. Then he came and kissed first Dickon and then Bella on the forehead before sitting down.

Rennie followed him, giving the twins a set of caps with their names embroidered on them.

Then came Snow, who had made them adorable blankets, each with their name on them, one crocheted in pink and the other in blue.

Rafe's gift was cunning sheepskin lined boots.

Elaina had made them bibs, Bella's with lace and Dickon's with velvet trim.

Aurora's gift was two sweaters, Bella's with a rose and Dickon's with a spinning wheel, both in sunny yellow.

Ivy had made them cunning little cornhusk dolls, Bella's was a princess and Dickon's a soldier.

Ariel gave them bath toys, a purple octopus for Dickon and a blue and gold crab for Bella.

Finn was next, and he gave them musical balls, that played a certain tune when you held them.

Tom gave them tiny miniature brooches, one with a dragon on it for Dickon and the other with a unicorn for Bella.

Peter's gift was clever sculptures of a knight and a sorceress.

Jack gave them stuffed toy horses, Dickon's was a red stallion and Bella's a black mare.

Jasmine gave them books, Dickon got one on heroes and legends and Bella got one on adventurous girls and myths.

Nick and Nora gave them candy and tops.

June came up and gave them tiny wands that lit up on command.

Phillip was next and he gave them both stuffed animals, Dickon got a brown teddy bear and Bella a gray and white cat like Puss.

Clary gave them her two unicorn hair bracelets.

Then it came time for others to give their gifts.

Charming and Bea gave them a beautiful sheepskin coat each.

From Archie there were wooden beads of different sizes and colors on strings on a frame to teach them how to count and learn colors.

Merrin and his family gave them a wooden toy box with scenes of a knight slaying a dragon and a princess with a unicorn on it.

Geppetto and Pinocchio gave them puppets, a dancing dog and a frog prince.

From the Miller family were a set of toy soldiers for Dickon and a china tea set for Bella.

Granny and Ruby gave them both vials of various herbal cordials.

Annie Pelham gave them teething rings and pacifiers.

Mary's gift was a blessing to be happy and wise.

Puck gave them toy bows and arrows.

Other gifts included clothes, money, games, and toys.

Jeff and Alice's gifts to them were sword and riding lessons when they were old enough.

Nova gifted them with a wish each, to be used when they were grown up enough to use it wisely.

Traditionally, the parents of the christened children didn't give them gifts, for they had already given them the most precious one-the gift of life. But Rumple and Belle had started a small vault for each of them, putting in it a sum of one hundred gold pieces each, which was the beginning of a dowry for Bella and a savings account for Dickon.

Ivy fretted, for Myrnin was not back yet and the ceremony was almost over. Only a few people were left to give gifts. "Oh, Myrnin, where are you?" she moaned.

Then it happened.

There came a dark cloud of sulfuric gas and when it cleared, Maleficent stood in the temple, hissing and glaring at them all, her dragon wings flapping and her horned head seeming to stab the skylights.

Nova gasped. "Maleficent! What are you doing here?"

The dark fairy turned and sneered at her light counterpart. "I'm crashing the party, Nova!" she laughed. Then she turned to Rumplestiltskin and Belle. "I believe you left my name off your guest list, Rumple!"

"On purpose, Maleficent!" the sorcerer growled, coming to stand protectively in front of his children. "Now get back to whatever hole you crawled out of, Dark Lady!"

"I can't do that, Rumple!" Maleficent chuckled. "You see, I was sent . . . by _my_ goddaughter, Regina, to avenge her. It is the single favor she asked of me, and I shall repay it!" Her hand began to glow a sickly green. "As you cursed her, so I shall curse your brats—"

Suddenly, Sweetheart leaped up from her position in front of the Gold children and charged at Maleficent, shrilling a war cry, her horn glowing a brilliant blue.

The dark fae gave ground to the unicorn, shielding her eyes from the magical light. "Ahh! A thrice-cursed unicorn!"

Sweetheart reared, lashing out with her slivery hoove_s _and screaming in challenge. Then she lowered her head and menaced the tall fairy, her horn glowing stridently.

"Wretched beast!" Maleficent spat, though she came no closer, since a unicorn's horn was anathema to one of her kind.

"Go, Sweetie! Kick that witch's ass!" yelled Phillip and Clary.

Maleficent spun, and her eyes narrowed as she saw the two small Golds. "If I can't curse them, I can curse you two!"

"Not on my watch, you blackhearted bitch!" Myrnin snarled as he entered the temple, holding a wrapped silvery package under one arm and clutching a white staff with a blue stone atop it in the other. "Get away from them, you cowardly spawn of darkness!"

A blue shield sprang up, separating Maleficent from the Gold children.

The dark fairy whirled and saw Myrnin. "What's this? Wood elf scum! Always poking your nose where it doesn't belong. Are you one of Ambrosius' pet mages then?"

Myrnin's eyes narrowed. "I'm Ambrosius' son, Prince Merlin."

"So . . . this is Ambrosius' half-breed whelp!" Maleficent spat in hatred. "If not for his infatuation with that milksop human, I would be queen of the wood by now."

"Watch how you speak of my mother, hag!" Myrnin warned icily.

"He never would have had you, Majora," Puck said, his hand on his dagger, which was the only weapon he had brought. "His heart always belonged to Ninaeve."

"Pathetic, ranger! He and I would have been a power beyond belief together and instead he rejected my suit to court a weakling human girl! Pah! And look what it got him. This half-breed wretch and a broken heart!" Maleficent smiled maliciously. "Little does he know that I broke it! By sending the plague to her people . . . and watching her die of it and laughing."

Myrnin felt his heart seize upon hearing those foul words. He almost thought he had heard wrong, but the fairy's boast was loud and clear. She was responsible for his mother's death . . . which had shattered his father and put Myrnin through hell for years. "You . . . killed my mother?"

"Well, let's just say I . . . indirectly murdered her." Then she began to laugh, the sound hard and cold, like shards of frozen ice.

In the cradles, the twins began to cry.

Nova flew down then and hovered protectively over the babies. Jeff and Alice moved then also, both of them holding wicked long knives in their hands, flanking the cradles.

Alwin cried, "You are unwelcome here, fiend! Leave now!"

Maleficent looked at the priestess. "Shut your carping mouth, idiot! I go where I will, and no mealy-mouthed servant of the goddess shall stop me," she gestured and Alwin's mouth suddenly sealed itself. "I invoke the Law of the Uninvited, the Forgotten Guest, and I wish to give these children _my_ gift."

"No!" Rumple shouted, but it was too late.

The Law of the Uninvited was ancient magic, made when the realms were first formed, back when magical blessings upon children were commonplace, and so were insults between magical beings. It enabled vengeful beings to satisfy their insulted honor upon foolish royals by cursing their offspring, since in the early days of the realms, kings and queens treated fairies more like servants than respected beings, calling upon them for all manner of tasks, and binding them with contracts to serve their own selfish ends. The Law of the Uninvited was made to get back at those who abused their power.

Belle ran over and grabbed up her babies, snarling like a crazed werewolf, "Curse my babies, hag, and you'll die the instant the words leave your lips!"

"You cannot harm me, for as a guest, even an uninvited one, I am sacrosanct, according to your laws of hospitality," Maleficent sneered. "You forgot to invite Regina to this event, Lady Gold, an oversight which will cost you." She lifted her hand again, ready to cast.

Then Snow stood up. "That's where you're wrong. We didn't forget. _I_ sent my stepmother an invitation weeks before. I knew she wouldn't dare show her face, but I also know tradition." Snow opened her hand. "The pigeon I sent returned with the invitation unopened and Regina's hand scrawled across it, _Message Denied, Return to Sender._" The invitation was clutched in her palm.

Gasps went around the room.

"_What_?" Maleficent shrieked. "Impossible!" She summoned the invitation, then snarled when she saw it was indeed the real thing.

"That makes your premise null and void, dark fairy!" Rumple challenged. "Now leave . . . while you still can!"

Maleficent shrank in on herself, swearing silently, then she spun about and pointed at Myrnin, her eyes blazing. "_Il' Shennara_ whelp, Ambrosius owes me for spurning me for that human chit so long ago. And since he isn't here, I shall take payment out of you!" her hands glowed a viscous green as she spat, "I curse thee, son of Ambrosius, with misfortune and death, with the burning that goes unquenched—"

A ball of glowing blue energy slammed her in the stomach, knocking her down before she had finished her sentence. She shrieked, batting at it.

"Oh, please! All of you villains are the same, you like to brag before you actually do something, like players on a stage," Myrnin sneered. "Where I come from, dark fae, you shut your mouth and just cast." He leveled the white staff at the prone Maleficent. The blue crystal atop it blazed with magic, and sparks drifted through the air. He walked forward, and he began to glow too, as he summoned all of his own power, his face cold and hard as iron. "There's only one question this _il'Shennara_ whelp wants you to answer, Maleficent the Betrayer. And that's how you want to die—fast or slow?"

The Staff of the Magi in his hand pulsed, and a blue beam of magical force shot out, encasing the dark fae within it.

Maleficent writhed, trying to throw off the binding, but her wicked magic was no match for the staff plus Myrnin's and she shrieked impotently, her dark magic flickering into red shards as she lay pinned on the floor.

She looked up and saw her death in the hazel eyes that glared down at her. She had been outmaneuvered by a slip of a girl and a half-breed magician, and she spat at her adversary. "Kill me then, whelp! And reap the rewards of it!"

"Myrnin, don't!" Rumple called, his heart filled with foreboding for his apprentice and foster son. "That's what she wants. Kill her like this and you'll pay vengeance's price, son!"

Myrnin hesitated. "She killed my mother!" he snapped. "By her own admission."

Rumple shook his head. "No. _Sickness_ killed your mother, she merely claims responsibility for it. It's not the same thing as deliberate murder. _Then_ you'd have the right to claim blood price. Listen to me, Myrnin. She seeks to trap you. When a dark fae asks for death, there is always a catch."

"She deserves death, Rum!" Myrnin shouted, the staff in his hands pulsing with repressed energy.

"Indeed she does, many times over," the sorcerer agreed. "But not this way, lad. This way lies your own damnation. Vengeance's price shall suck you dry and claim your soul and power for evil. She'll die and _you'll_ take her place. Is that what you want? To become what she is, and my enemy? To betray me and all that I've taught you? _Think_, Myrnin, about what she said, and remember, all magic comes with a price."

His brown eyes met the angry hazel ones, and he prayed that his words could stem the flood tide of hate he knew was rising in the young magician's soul, wailing a siren's seductive call through him. In such a way did the dark magic corrupt those youngsters new to Power, by giving them what they thought was their heart's desire, but then trapping them through their own desperate need. As the dagger had done with him. _I paid vengeance's price once, lad. And it almost destroyed me. Don't let it consume you. _He prayed the young sorcerer, the strongest magician he had ever trained, who in the fullness of his power would someday match him, would follow his advice, because otherwise he would have an enemy of the worst kind to contend with, and he didn't want to kill his son.

_All magic comes with a price._ Those words warred within the half-elf's soul, as he glared down at the hateful visage of Maleficent, the ancient enemy of his family, who had indirectly caused his mother to die for petty spite. _You deserve death, a thousand and one times over,_ he thought in fury. _And I can give you it. Only my will holds back the Staff of the Magic from releasing its power into you. One thought and you'll be a puff of smoke, betrayer. And my mother shall be avenged._

"Myrnin, listen to Rumplestiltskin," Puck said suddenly. Then he spoke rapidly in elven, "Your mother would never want this. She did what she did out of love for her kin, and when she knew she was dying, she said take care of my son, Puck, but never forget, this is the death I chose, for a Healer is forever the servant of her people. Upon my honor, I swear this to be true! The Betrayer lies, she always has!"

"Kill me! You know you want to!" Maleficent taunted, her voice rasping.

Myrnin's hands trembled, as he fought back the instinctive rage and hatred that longed to see the dark fae dust on the wind.

"Myrnin, if you kill her, we can never be together," Ivy called. "For I can never love a dark sorcerer."

Ivy's voice, clear and calm, washed over him then, and the blood red tide faded. Slowly, the Staff of the Magi dimmed, though the blue binding did not fade. Myrnin mastered the rage that beat against his temples, and said softly, "All magic comes with a price, Maleficent. And vengeance's price is too high for me to pay, not even once. You lose, dark fae. I am my mother's son, and thus I banish you from this company, to the ends of the earth, to rot in a hell of your own design. Go! And trouble us no more, Betrayer!"

The staff flared, and then Maleficent was gone, transported away to her dark prison, and all was as it had been before her arrival.

Ivy sat back down with a thump, sweat breaking out on her brow as she realized how close she had come to losing the man she loved to darkness' embrace. Rumple breathed a vast sigh of relief, for vengeance was always a difficult beast to master, as he knew all too well. Then he heard Alwin whimpering, and he quickly canceled the spell Maleficent had cast over her.

Alwin sighed, then looked at Myrnin. "You are Prince Merlin Stormshadow, are you not?"

"I am, High Priestess," Myrnin replied, bowing to her. "Forgive my lateness, my father the king and I spoke of many things this day, and I bring now his gifts as well as my own to the Gold twins."

"You are among the invited," Alwin said. "Approach, and give your gifts, prince of the _il'Shennara_."

As Myrnin walked up to the cradles, Rumple, Belle, and Sweetie stepped aside, and Alice and Jeff sheathed their long knives and waited calmly.

Myrnin unwrapped the silvery package he had been holding, removing a delicate porcelain bowl and a book from it. "These are the gifts King Ambrosius wished to give to the children of a fellow sorcerer. My father has the gift of Sight, when it chooses to come to him, and he foresaw that one day these things would come in handy. The bowl is a scrying bowl, for one twin shall have the Gift of Clear Sight, and the other is a magical chronicle of the realms, for the other shall be a great historian, and record the truth inside its pages, to be preserved forever. He did not See which was which, however, so the gifts are not labeled, but you will know when they are older to whom each one belongs."

He gave them to Jeff and Alice, then said, "And last but not least, here is my gift. As an _il'Shennara_ prince, I give you the Threefold Blessing—may you always be honest and true to your word, may you have the courage of the snow falcon, and the strength of heart of the oak, which endures come flood, fire, or dark magic. May the gods of the wood watch over you, little brother and sister, in their Names I bless thee." Then he bent and kissed each little forehead, and purple magic flickered over them for an instant as he did so.

Then he straightened and shot a grin at Puck, saying, "I'm told you spoke something similar over me when I was their age, Puck, so I figured it was time to pass it on."

"A wise decision, my prince," Puck replied, giving him a nod of respect.

"I now declare this ceremony to be at an end!" Alwin said quickly. "May the blessings of the Mother and Father be upon you, and good day to you all!"

As the guests began to file out of the temple, some of them to return to the castle for the christening feast, Ivy ran over to Myrnin and hugged him. "I knew you would do the right thing!" she said, her eyes shining.

"Then you knew more than I did," her boyfriend laughed. "Because up until the last second, I really wasn't sure." He kissed her gently.

"Myrnin, what's that staff you have?"

"It's a gift from my father. A Staff of the Magi. He's declared me his official advisor and court mage, Ivy. So I carry the staff now. It's a sign of his respect for me, a great honor."

"And perhaps a start at making up for the way he's treated you all these years too, lad," said Rumple, coming up to hug the young magician.

"You're probably right. Though I am a little young for it, and some of his councilors wanted him to wait. But he does what he thinks is best, as always."

"And perhaps he Sees clearer now than he ever did," Rumple said. "I'm proud of you, son. I know how difficult that choice was."

Myrnin nodded. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But I learned from the best about magic's price. And that love matters more than vengeance. Thanks, Rum."

"Come on, you two. I believe we have a party to celebrate. And we don't want to miss the dessert!" Rumple said, smirking.

Then he made his way back to where Belle waited with the twins, and took Bella from the cradle and held her while Jack hitched up Sweetie to the trap and then they both got in and had the unicorn pull them back to the castle on the hill, which had lost its dark reputation like its master, and became known forevermore as the Gold Castle, abode of the Gold sorcerer and his wife, Lady Belle the Healer, and their twenty-two quirky, impudent, magical, fun, loveable children, and assorted relations thereof, or as Jefferson put it one day to Belle, "Yours, mine, and Rumplestiltskin's."

**A/N: No, the story's not quite over yet-there's still another final chapter to come, so you can see what happens when some of them grow up!**


	67. Happily Ever After

**67**

**Happily Ever After**

_Five years later_

_The Gold Castle:_

It was a fine summer's day in June, with all the roses in Belle's arbor exploding into blooms, including the one they called Gaston's Sunset, and the gardens in the backyard filled with produce and herbs, and Rogue trotting along inside the pasture with her new filly, Crimson Spark, who was the daughter of Steady, while Baron napped in the shade of the kitchen courtyard.

Inside the castle, everyone was hustling and bustling, preparing to go down to Valley Way to the temple of the Mother again, this time for the christening of Snow and Charming's firstborn, a daughter they had called Emma. This would be Rumple and Belle's second grandchild so far, though Rafe and Elaina, who had been married two years ago, were now expecting their first child. They were happily married and living down in Valley Way, where Rafe worked as a hunter guide for travelers who wished to hunt and fish the Mystic Wood but didn't know how to handle themselves in the forest . . . or with a bow either on occasion.

Elaina was part-owner of a millinery and dress shop, along with Aurora and Arachne Miller, called _Rumpled Threads_. The shop was one of the great draws for ladies of all stations and sizes, and featured original designs by Aurora and Arachne and hats and scarves by Elaina. Their motto was _clothing to enchant, delight, and make a woman beautiful_ . . . and they lived up to their name. People came from as far away as the Enchanted Forest to purchase their dresses, and they had mostly satisfied customers each and every day since the shop had opened.

Aurora was engaged now to Archie Hopper, who was in his second year at the Enchanted College, studying to be a professor. Arachne was also engaged, to Troy Pelham, and was due to get married next year, in May, with Elaina and Aurora as her attendants.

They were already awaiting the arrival of the rest of the Gold clan at the temple of the Mother, along with Myrnin and Ivy, who had been helping Snow prepare the feast.

While Rumple and Jeff were hitching up the horses to the four carriages they had rented, Jack was putting a riding saddle and bridle on Steady, he was now fifteen and had trained the destrier to know the difference between a war saddle and bridle and one that he used for riding. He was squiring for Merrin, and would be made a knight of the realm when he turned eighteen, along with Ray de Brabante, his best friend. Ray also had a small sister, Eleanor, who was best friends with Grace and Bella.

Belle was down in Valley Way with Snow and her family, having gone there to help the couple out when Emma caught a sudden fever. The baby was fine now, and so the christening didn't have to be postponed, thanks to her grandmother's skillful Healing abilities, and she had been helped as well by Clary, who had fulfilled the promise of a seventh daughter and was Gifted with intuition, luck, and Healing, much as Rumple had suspected. Her Gift eclipsed Belle's, and she could Heal with a touch, but she was still learning how to control it from Rum, and had promised never to use it unless he was with her. The Shepherds were still a queen and her consort in exile, having yet to oust Regina from the Enchanted Forest, though they had at last managed to gather a large enough army to march on the Evil Queen in a few months, leaving Emma to be looked after by her doting grandparents at the Gold Castle, while her parents, godfather Baelfire, and Jefferson along with the Card Captors won back Snow's kingdom.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Emma giggled as Belle tickled her tummy as she dressed the three month old in a beautiful silk and satin christening gown and bib woven by her grandfather and aunts. "Look at Grammy's pretty princess!" Belle cooed to her newest granddaughter, gently putting a soft crocheted bonnet onto Emma's little head. The baby had delicate gold blond hair, like her grandmother Beatrice, and sky blue eyes. She blew bubbles as Belle and Beatrice got her and themselves ready for the big day.

Snow was currently pulling on her own dress, then sighing when the laces at the back got stuck. "Help!" she cried, her words muffled by the stifling ivory fabric.

Bea went to assist her while Belle pulled little ivory booties with snowflakes embroidered on them onto Emma's feet. "Doesn't Grandpa make lovely booties, darlin'?" she asked Emma, then began to sing to her, "This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home and spun, this little piggy flew away, and this little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home!"

She tickled Emma's feet as she sang, making her granddaughter burst out laughing.

"What are you doing to Emma, Mama?" asked Clary as she came into the room.

"Just playing with her, dearie," Belle replied. "She's in a very good mood, aren't you, sunshine, since her fever's broken."

"How do I look?" Clary asked her mother. She was wearing a pale peach gown with white rosettes on the bodice and sleeves and matching peach slippers and white stockings. Her long red-gold hair was arranged in a simple style and held back with a white headband with a single silk rose on the side. She was nine now, and had the first blush of the beautiful woman she would eventually become, though she was unaware of it.

"Beautiful, dearie, as your papa would say," Belle smiled at her Healer daughter. "Would you mind watching Emma while I get into my dress?"

"Sure, Mama," Clary sat down on the bed next to baby Emma and smiled at her. "Hello, lovely girl! You look like a little angel, you know that? Of course you do!" She made silly faces at the baby, and kissed her little cheeks and blew raspberries on her tummy.

Emma cooed and smiled at her young aunt, trying to grab Clary's curls.

Clary took the little hands and clapped them together, singing, "Clap hands, clap hands till Grandpa comes home! Grandpa's got money and Emma's got none! Yay!" Then she laughed and said, "Well, that's not really true, you've got money too, you just can't touch it yet, not till you're grown. How about this one, Emma?"

She covered her face with her hands and then cried, "Peek-a-boo! I see you!" then opened her hands.

Emma squealed, and Clary said, "Now it's your turn, Emma!" She took the tiny hands and put them over the baby's eyes then cried, "Peek-a-boo! I see you!" to Emma's delight.

As Bea tied the laces in the back of Snow's dress, Snow watched Emma and Clary playing in her full-length mirror and said, "Those two are going to be great friends, I can see that now. Clary's so good with her, it almost makes me jealous."

Bea chuckled. "Snow, you're an excellent mother, and Emma loves you. Clary's good with babies and animals on instinct, you know she's an Empathic Healer."

"She also makes an excellent babysitter," Belle said, fastening the buttons on her dress. "When Dickon and Bella were small, they were almost always good when Clary watched them. Rennie used to say it was because she bewitched them, but I think it's just because Clary understands little children best. Rather like her papa does."

"Are we all ready in there, girls?" called Charming.

"Just about, love," Snow answered. She fluffed her hair while Belle put on a lovely gold rose necklace that Rumple had bought her for his solstice gift this year.

Then she went and picked up Emma and they came out of the bedroom and went to get in the carriage Charming had rented, with Sweetie hitched to it, to take them over to the temple.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Alice stood at the bottom of the grand staircase with Rennie, who had come over from her little cottage in the back of the castle, where she lived with Bae and their first child, who was getting a quick wash from her doting father, as she had been playing in a mud puddle with her puppy, Gabriel, who was the son of Polaris, and a gift from doting godparents Charming and Snow.

Alice glanced at Rennie, who was expecting her second child, and said, "So, how are you feeling?"

"All right. This one's coming along much better than when I had Davina," Rennie said, gently rubbing her stomach, she was only three and a half months along. "At least poor Bae doesn't have to shove my head over a bowl every ten minutes, and he's not running around trying to find me pickles, cheese, and ice cream in one night!"

Alice smirked. "Remind me to tell you of the time I drove Jeff crazy when I was pregnant with Grace and made him get me watermelon and peanuts with chocolate sauce."

"Poor Uncle Jeff!" Rennie giggled, patting her stomach. "Now where are the rest of those scamps? I think Jasmine and Kris would have finished helping them get ready now."

Alice called up the stairs, "Hey, kids! Shake a leg, or this coach is leaving without you!"

"Okay, Aunt Alice! We're coming!" came a little girl's voice, and a dark-haired child with huge brown eyes in a pink ruffled dress and rosebud shoes appeared on the landing and walked downstairs. She called back over her shoulder, "Hurry up, Dickon, you slowpoke! B'fore Papa leaves without us! You an' Phil can play Elves and Goblins another time!"

"Oh, keep your panties on, Bella!" yelled Phillip. "Papa would never leave us behind and you know it!"

"Yeah, you're not the boss of me, Bella!" her twin answered.

"Well, I'm older!" she yelled back.

"So? I'm smarter! Brains over beauty," Dickon replied, coming downstairs with Phillip a moment later. He resembled his father strongly, with Rumple's medium brown hair that fell in waves almost to his tunic collar and dark brown eyes that Belle swore would have a girl fainting at his feet once he was old enough to be interested in such things.

Bella scowled at him as he came beside her. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm stupid, Richard Gold?"

Dickon sighed. "No. Just bossy, is all. Let's not fight, Bella. Or else Papa will put us in time out again for eight minutes and send us to bed without dessert, and Miss Bea made that vanilla drizzle chocolate cake and I really love it."

"Me too," his twin said, and took his hand in hers. "Okay, I'll forget about it. But don't do it again, or I'll smack you upside the head."

"You do and I'll tickle you to death," Phillip put in from behind them. He was twelve and growing like a weed, as Belle put it. He was almost as tall as his mother now, with dark wavy hair and long-lashed brown eyes, adorably sweet and yet adorably flippant too.

Bella rolled her eyes. "I was kidding, Phil! Can't you take a joke? I beat up people who hurt my brother, duh!"

The twins skipped down the stairs and Rennie said, "Better get in the coach, you two. Where's Grace?"

"Here I am, Rennie!" cried a little golden-haired girl with brilliant blue eyes, she was almost the same age as the twins. She was dressed in a sailor-suit dress of deep blue with a white collar and her hair was braided with two sapphire ribbons. She had on black tap shoes that clicked when she trotted down the stairs.

"Gracie, didn't I tell you to take those off?" Alice sighed.

"But Mommy, I'm gonna dance for baby Emma," her daughter objected. "And I can't dance without my really cool dance shoes."

"I'm going to kill your ma for buying her those," Alice whispered to Rennie. "She wears them to bed!" She turned back to her daughter. "Where's your brother, Grace?"

Grace shrugged. "I dunno. Somewhere." She tapped a foot against the stair tread and yelled up the stairs, "C'mon, Rumple! Mommy says to get your butt down here now!"

"Gracelynn Maria Hatter, I did not!" Alice scolded.

"You said the coach was leaving, it's the same thing. Dad says so," Grace replied.

"Looks like I need to have another talk with your father," Alice muttered. She sighed and shepherded her minx of a daughter outside into the coach where Phillip was seated.

Ariel and Finn came downstairs next, wearing fine white linen robes, as they were going to play in the choir for Emma's christening. Finn was now a tall handsome man of eighteen, with dark blond hair and bright green eyes, and Ariel had blossomed into a lovely young woman with her fiery red hair and aquamarine eyes. People often mistook them for a couple, until they learned the two were siblings, called the Golden Mystics, composers and musicians who had played at the king's court last summer and also for the selkie prince Lord Ahern. King George had even invited them to play at his midsummer festival, though Finn wasn't too happy about it and was thinking about making an excuse not to go, since he didn't like a kingdom where people hunted the magic born and burnt them at stakes on rumors and hearsay. He had never forgotten the pack of witch hunters who had almost taken away his father and tortured him that one winter solstice, and neither had Ariel.

They waved to Rennie and walked out to the coach, discussing the songs they'd be singing and playing.

Just then Bae walked in the door dressed in his good tunic and pants, carrying a two-year-old girl in his arms. She had her father's curly dark hair and her mother's heartwarming blue eyes and was wearing a sprigged green calico dress with matching shoes and ruffled lace socks. She carried a worn green fuzzy blanket in her arms, a fragment of the one her grandfather had received as a solstice gift long ago, he had given it to her one day when she was staying over at the castle, and Davina carried it everywhere until it had torn in two, and now she carried the smaller piece.

"Had to put a new dress on her, Ren, I couldn't get all the mud off the other one," Bae told his wife, kissing her cheek. "But now she matches her blankie, right, Davina?"

Davina grinned, showing her gap-toothed smile, as she had lost her first tooth last week. "Uh huh, cause my blankie is green an' so's my dress, Mama! See? See?"

"You look very pretty, Davina. Papa's good with picking out matching clothes, unlike Uncle Jeff, who sent Grace over to Ellen's house one time with two different shoes and socks on!" Rennie snickered.

"Oh, gods, that's right!" Bae chuckled. "I'd almost forgotten about that!"

"Unca Jeff's silly!" Davina lisped, giggling.

"Got that right, dearie!" Rumple said, coming in the front door. "How's my little butterfly today?"

"Granpa!" Davina wriggled in Bae's arms. "Down, Papa!"

Bae set her on the ground and she cried, "Watch this, Granpa!" She grasped both sides of her green dress and gave a very presentable curtsey.

Rumple clapped and said, "That was beautiful, Davina."

"Jus' like a pwincess!" she giggled and raced over to Rum and kissed his cheek when he picked her up. "A butterfly kiss!"

"From my favorite butterfly maiden," her grandfather laughed.

"She's been practicing that all night," Bae said proudly. "She told Rennie and me she was going to do that for Aunt Snow and Uncle Jim."

"An' baby Emma, my new cousin!" Davina said happily. "She's a pwincess too!"

"And you're too smart, Miss Davina Belle Gold!" Rumple said, tweaking her nose. Then he put her down, and she ran to Bae and held out her arms.

"Got an answer for everything, like her mama," Bae agreed, scooping her up.

"But at least it's the right answer, Baelfire," said Rennie impishly. "Be right back, I need to use the bathroom." She hurried away to the white bathroom.

Just then Jeff poked his head in the door. "Rum, have you seen your godson anywhere?"

"Why, no, but then I just came in here—" the sorcerer said.

"Dad, watch this new trick!" came a boy's small voice, and a three-year-old with Jeff's dark hair and Alice's blue eyes wearing a gold and blue tunic and trousers with soft leather boots jumped right off the top of the staircase. . . and half flew through the air towards his astonished father, uncle, and cousins. "Look, I can fly!"

Jeff looked like he wasn't sure whether to applaud the little scamp or spank him for giving him a heart attack.

His son landed neatly on the ground in front of Rumple, and grinned up at his godfather. "Hi, Uncle Rum!"

Rumple put his hands on his hips and frowned, saying sternly, "Don't you "hi, Uncle Rum" me, young man! Rumplestiltskin Hatter, what have I told you about using magic?"

"Uh oh! Youz in twouble now!" Davina gasped. Bae hushed her, biting his lip.

"Umm . . . not to unless you were there," his namesake said, looking at the ground.

"_And_ unless you ask permission first," Rumple reminded the intrepid daredevil. "You could have broken your neck, you little imp!"

"Yeah, now what've you got to say for yourself?" Jeff chimed in, getting his voice back.

"I forgot," Little Rumple answered. "Sorry." He looked up at his disapproving uncle and his father with pleading blue eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"You ought to be," Rumple sighed, glancing at Jefferson.

"Your godfather's right," agreed the mercenary, taking his cue from Rumple. Then he added, "But since it was an honest mistake, I'll let it go. But you use your magic again without Uncle Rum's permission and you'll be in serious trouble, young man. Like a trip over my knee and no supper, got me?"

The little scamp nodded. "Okay, Dad. I'll re'member."

Jeff scooped his son into his arms and hugged him. "Please behave, Little Rum. You damn near gave me a heart attack there, kid!"

"You and me both," muttered his godfather.

"I will, promise," said Little Rumple. "Now can I go play with Dickon?"

"Yeah, scram!" Jeff said, sending the young daredevil off with a swat to his bottom. "Good gods, Rum, I damn near passed out!" he said once his son was safely out of earshot.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," his friend remarked slyly, then ducked Jeff's smack on the shoulder. "Gods help us all, he's you all over again, no fear and all impulse . . . with magic to boot."

"And there's no way you could . . . uh . . . turn it off?" Jeff asked.

"Jeff, he's not a faucet. He's a little boy and his magic's not fully awake yet, just enough for him to make light and levitate, thank all the gods," Rumple told him.

"Hells bells, Rum, what will he be like when it's fully awake?" Jefferson asked, looking alarmed.

"A very strong sorcerer, Jeff, like me," Rumple said. "Hopefully by then he'll be more prone to thinking before he acts and used to following my teachings. Like Myrnin."

"Oh, gods! Maybe I'll just shoot myself," Jeff groaned. "How'd he ever get magic anyway?"

"It's from your grandmother's side of the family, Jeff. She told me once she was glad you'd only inherited a fraction of it from your great uncle, who was a Fire Master. That's how you're able to use that hat of yours."

"You never told me that!"

"I thought you knew," Rumple said.

"Or it comes with the name," Bae remarked. "I wonder if he'll be able to spin straw into gold too?"

"Who knows?" his father said.

"I will, Papa!" Davina put in. "I'm gonna spin stwaw into gold like Granpa when I get bigger!"

"You will, huh?" Bae tickled her ribs, making her giggle. "Then we'll be the Gold swordsman and the Gold sorceress, my butterfly princess!" He had made lieutenant last year, and was third in command of the Card Captors, and called the Gold swordsman, because his men swore he was a wizard with a sword, and no one could outfight him except Captain Alice. And even she was hard pressed to do so now that she was older.

"Is that possible, Papa?" asked Rennie, coming back from the bathroom in time to hear Davina and Bae's comment.

"Anything's possible in this family, Ren," answered the Gold sorcerer. "And if she does, I'll teach her the same as I do all the rest of them." Then he glanced up the stairs and called, "Jasmine! Kris! Peter! Tom! Junie, Nick, and Nora! It's time to leave, now hurry up before we're late and you're going to have to explain why to your mother."

Soon a brown pine marten came scurrying down the stairs, followed by Jasmine on Rajah, and Peter carrying Tom on his shoulder. "Sorry we're a bit behind, Papa. But Nick's trousers had to be let out and Nora couldn't find her shawl and well . . . you know how it is," Jasmine said.

"Yes, I know. Always trouble somewhere," her father said.

"Papa, will the Marches be there with Thumbelina?" Tom queried. Last year a troop of traveling acrobats had come through Valley Way with their tiny daughter, who was just three inches high like Tom, called Thumbelina, she was sweet and funny with platinum hair and violet eyes and Tom was instantly smitten. And not only was she just his size, she was also only a year younger, only she had parents who weren't dismayed by her tiny size, for they were all part pixie, and small and compact, perfect for doing acrobatic routines, supple and lithe as cats and graceful as swallows. Thumbelina was a full member of their act, doing amazing routines with her huge bumblebee, Honeybuzz.

Tom would be beginning his own apprenticeship in the fall with Rembrandt, the portrait artist who had painted their family portrait so long ago, at almost the same time as Peter, who would be starting with the village potter, Joan Pierce.

"I believe Snow and Jim invited them, so yes, they should be," Rumple answered. "Now quick, get in the coach."

As Jasmine, Kris-still in her marten shape, and Tom scurried out the door, June, Nick, and Nora ran down the steps.

"You're late!" Davina said, shaking her finger at them.

"Aww, be quiet, imp!" Nick said, laughing. He had Gingy on his shoulder. "You're not old enough to act like your mom yet, Davina!"

"Or your dad either," Nora chuckled. She was holding Cinna, short for Cinnamon, the gingerbread girl Ivy had baked and magicked this solstice as a companion for Gingy.

"My hair was falling down and I had to fix it," June said, sighing, for her fine platinum hair was the bane of her existence at thirteen, she had it piled half on top of her head with about two dozen hair pins.

"Never mind, Junie. Just get in the coach so we can leave before your mother comes up here to see why we missed the christening," Rumple told her.

"Then Grammy'll be mad an' we'll _all_ be in twouble!" Davina stated.

"You aren't kidding, princess," Bae grinned, and kissed his daughter on the nose.

Finally everyone was in their respective coaches, with Rumple, Bae, Rennie, Davina, Dickon, Bella, and Little Rum in one coach and the rest, save for Jeff, Jack, Alice, and Kristen in the others. Kristen had shifted into her hawk shape and flew overhead while the others rode Steady, Deuce, and Ironheart.

Little Rum had climbed up on Rumple's lap, cuddling with his godfather for the short trip down to the temple. "You still mad at me, Uncle Rum?" he asked diffidently.

Rumple ruffled the dark haired child's hair and said, "No, dearie. Just remember and learn from your mistake, okay? You know why I don't want you using magic without me, right?"

"Uh huh. 'Cause I might get hurt."

"Very good, Little Rumple!" the sorcerer praised. "Now, why don't I tell you all a little story while we're going to the temple, so Bella can't ask me if we're there yet a hundred times?"

"Like what kind of story, Uncle Rum?" asked his godson curiously. "One with lots of magic in it?"

"And good guys versus bad guys, Papa?" asked Dickon.

"And brave smart girls and evil witches?" Bella added.

"An' pwincesses and unicorns?" Davina queried.

"Oh, yes. This story has all those things in it," Rumple stated. "And lots more besides. Because this is our story, the story of our family. Now hush up and put your listening ears on." As the children grew still as mice, the Gold sorcerer began, saying, "This is a long tale, so we won't be able to finish it all before we get there, but I'll continue it later on tonight, after baby Emma's christening."

"And probably the night after that and the next one too at least," Bae remarked.

"Shh, Papa!" his daughter reprimanded, putting her finger to his lips. "Granpa's talkin'!"

"Yeah, Bae, where's your manners?" Rennie teased.

"Okay, I'll shut up. Sorry, Papa," his eldest said, his brown eyes twinkling.

Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat. "Okay, then. Once upon a time, there was a castle on a hill . . ."

And the children sat, spellbound, as he told them the tale of how he had met Belle and her ten children and two lonely single parents had fallen in love, bringing together their many children into one huge family, and learning to live happily ever after in the Gold Castle on the hill just above the village of Valley Way. It was a story he would tell over and over, to all the children of the Gold clan, including Emma, until it passed into legend, never to be forgotten.

**A/N: A quick note on Little Rumple's magic- a strong magician, like Myrnin, can have his or her magic awaken before seven years old, it depends upon the individual. Thus Little Rumple can have partial magic emerge as a small child. I think Rum deliberately suppressed his own magic as a child as result of his miserable childhood and that's why it only emerged as an adult after the dagger's curse. **

**Okay, this is the end of this tale! I'd like to thank everyone who came along for the ride with me over these past three months- it seems like much longer, doesn't it? I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you! Who would enjoy more adventures of the Gold family, like a sequel or two, though maybe not quite this length?**

**Also, if you liked this story, you might also like my other OUAT one, called the Gold Standard, which features Storybrooke personas and a more contemporary season 1 setting, though the focus will still be on Gold and his family.**


	68. Story Alert

**A/N: This is an alert to let you all know I'm doing a new small companion piece to this story called Bae and the Blue Hat. The first chapter is up now, it's a flashback story detailing the infamous hat incident, where Bae becomes the sorcerer's apprentice. Happy reading all!**


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